


The Wolf and the Rose

by Aeltari



Series: Wolf Brothers [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Canon Universe, Conception, Eventual Sex, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Miscommunication, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pregnancy, Romance, Sexual Tension, Some scenes NSFW, long awaited relationship, relationship building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-17 05:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 70,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9307103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeltari/pseuds/Aeltari
Summary: Geralt of Rivia was lonely. 6 years after the Wild Hunt was defeated and Cirilla took the throne as Empress, he found himself lost and drifting through his life. A chance meeting with an old friend rekindles feelings and desires long forgotten, and Geralt wonders if she shares those feelings, or is he seeing something that isn't and never was there?





	1. Alone

* * *

He was tired and reeking of blood and sweat when he finally made it to the city of Vizima. Roach walked along with his head slung low, a few shallow cuts and abrasions on his sides and rump from the monsters in the bogs they had just crossed.

Geralt sighed deeply and dismounted nodding at the stable boy waiting to take the reins.

"Recommend a good inn?" he asked.

The boy pointed down the muddy road.  "Down this road til the sign of the Muddy Duck. You make a left then follow the cobblestones to the big red building. Can't miss it. Best beds in town...if ya got the coin!"

Geralt tossed _him_ an extra coin and the lad thanked him profusely.  At least he could rest assured that Roach would get an extra flake of hay tonight.

There was rain in the air.  He could feel it and smell it.  He didn't care.  All he wanted to do was take a hot bath and sleep.  Even food wasn't enough of a deterrent as he walked into the Inn and paid for a night.  He never heard a single question put to him and mindlessly walked up two flights of stairs to what he hoped was his room.  Geralt seemed to be the only resident on that floor.

He unstrapped his swords and the buckles on his boots, leaving a trail of garments as he walked to the bathroom.  A large bath barrel sat in the center of the floor and he turned on the taps.

The joy of modern plumbing. Vizima was an inventor's paradise.

With a heavy sigh he sank into the hot water and shuddered with pleasure.  He closed his eyes and lay there, his mind full of a thousand thoughts.

Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarcie,  known simply as Geralt of Rivia, had always accepted that his life as a witcher would be a lonely one filled with only two things: death and coin.  The former was required to procure the latter, and the latter could buy him companionship for a night or two, but beyond that there was naught to be done with it.  At first it had been fine.  He revelled in the heightened sense of danger and excitement.  The thrill of a sword placed just right, the sight of a head soaring through the air after being decapitated from its body.  The chinking sound of a bag of coin landing in his palm.  The feel of Roach galloping beneath him as he moved on to yet another town, another village, another city, another camp in the woods.

Then one day it became exactly that.  Yet another town, another village, another city, another day precisely like the one before, with the only difference being what fell at the end of his sword. Even the coin was no longer a source of satisfaction.

He allowed himself to think of his surprise child Ciri. She had sacrificed her own happiness and a potential future as the first female witcher to take on the mantle of Empress at her biological father's side. Geralt had nearly begged her not to go that route, to leave with him and let him train her.  But she believed she could do so much more for her people as a leader.  She wanted so much to do good, to undo all the evil that had come before.  With Temeria restored she truly felt that sacrificing her own desires was the right choice.

He still disagreed.  There was nothing wrong with thinking of one's self, of one's own needs and desires. It was a matter of balance, and he felt that Ciri did not have that now.  He remembered her as the precocious child she had been, full of life with a stubborn streak.  How would her life play out now?  He had never seen this coming. He had always believed once he found her and rescued her from the clutches of the wild hunt that Ciri and he would be together, fighting off the monsters of the world side by side.

Now he was without her, and always would be.

Geralt's mind wandered to the sorceress Yennefer.  The raven haired beauty that had been bound to him for so long first by the spell of the Djinn, then afterwards by a deep curiosity to see if their love had been real in any way.  He had loved her in his own way, but after the spell was broken he very clearly felt that there was nothing deeper from his end. He saw that her ambitions had always come between them, that she treated him as more of an assistant than a lover.  Time and again when they had met she had never been sure where her heart lay. Geralt had openly asked her so many times if she loved him, and she could never respond directly.  It became clear to him that he needed to go his own way. After they had located Ciri, and fought back the Wild Hunt, they separated for good.

The other love in his life had been Triss Merigold.  With hair like fire and a spirit to match, Triss made him feel younger and more alive. Her presence gave him the feeling that there was hope for a future, a reprieve from the loneliness. She had been open, willing to give him what he needed most, but he had still been bound to Yennefer and needed to play that story out. To his dismay, Geralt had discovered that Triss had been deceptive and dishonest in her dealings with him. She had come to him when he had been stricken with amnesia. Her awareness of his situation with Yennefer, her friend, didn't dissuade her from seducing him with magic and guile.  Although he had come around to forgiving her and helped her and the mages out of a tough situation during Radovid's occupation, Geralt could never be comfortable with a personal relationship with the red headed sorceress. Triss had had dreams of her own, and he learned that she had made at least one come true. Last he had heard, she had sailed to far off Kovir to act as advisor to the King. It was something he knew she had always wanted to do. Even if things had been different, a life at court was not a life for him, and if she had wanted that lifestyle he could not have gone regardless.

There had been others, and his mind replayed his time with them. Some he still thought of, but felt that their time together had come and gone. Some he knew he would never see again, but there was one he hoped he might. She had been special to him, and he had wanted more with her but things didn't turn out that way. There were times his mind roamed over what they'd had together and it left him empty inside, wondering if he had imagined her feelings for him. But nowhere in that thought process did Geralt believe his solitude would end. At best he might have a companion for a time.

He mentally tapped on those old wounds and found them scarred over. The sharp pain had gone from them, the dull ache that had been a constant companion now also was a distant memory. He wondered if it were possible for him to feel anything deeper for anyone anymore. If he needed sexual gratification, it was easily to be found. The more coin one was willing to cough up, the more noble and elegant the service. He wrinkled up his nose in distaste. Another paid lady of the night who would be anything you wanted her to be. In the end it left him emptier and more broken than before.

Where once he had reveled in a lifestyle of such indulgences, complete with the unending flow of liquor, he now shunned those places, preferring his own company to that of any paid companions.

Geralt washed himself slowly, then arose and reached for a towel. Drying himself off he looked at his reflection in the mirror. A week's worth of beard had appeared but he didn't care to shave it off. He was too tired to mind his appearance. What did it matter anyway? Who was there to look at him?

Perhaps after a long sleep he would be ready to face the world again.

But he doubted it.

 

* * *

Geralt felt the sun on his face from the window and rolled over. Morning had come too soon it seemed. It felt as though he had just lain down. He rolled over and planned to return to that blissful unconsciousness when a sharp rapping came at the door. At first he ignored it, thinking that it was across the hall, or anywhere else. No one knew him. No one would visit him.

"Hello! M'lord! Are you alright in there!?"

The rapping invaded his tired mind over and over, the insistent voice shrill.

"What is it?" he shouted out.

"Milord! I've grown concerned. 'aven't seen you in some time!"

With a groan he sat up, reached for his shorts and ambled to the door. Flinging it open in irritation he saw the woman from the bar whom he had paid for the room.

"Stop that racket!" he almost yelled.

She looked at him, taken aback by the aggressive stance and tone. He had come in wearing two swords, amber cat's eyes alert, and was not a man to be trifled with. She stepped back.

"Forgive me m'lord but it 'as been 2 days since you arrived. I was afeared ye might 'ave come to 'arm!"

Geralt blinked and raised his eyebrows for a moment. "2 days. I have been asleep for 2 days?"

Realizing that he had no notion of what was going on, and was not about to become violent, she stepped forward again. "Aye. Ye paid me for a night and 'aven't been out and about since. Will ye be stayin' on then, now that I see ye be still breathin'!"

Geralt turned around to the table on which he had lain his coin pouch. Retrieving several coins he paid her for the past night and for the next several. He was generous as he felt sorry for his rather rough behavior towards her. She was a simple soul and meant no harm. She smiled and dipped her head, then scuttled off back downstairs.

He stood there in the doorway for a moment allowing his foggy head to clear, then closed the door. A bowl of fruit lay on the table and he absently dug into it, choosing an apple and a few grapes. Returning to the bed he sat down and began on the apple.

 _Two days._ Two days he had lain in this bed while the world went on around him. Gone were the days of rushing from place to place to find Ciri, or reunite with Yennefer, or out into the wilds to fulfill a contract.

For a brief moment he missed those days. It had seemed simpler than. Simpler yet filled with purpose.

What was his purpose now? Making coin? To what end? To buy a cottage or a manor somewhere, fill it with servants, and wait for his time to come? He was only 105 years old. That time might be long way off.

He threw the finished core across the room into the waste barrel.

He could always return to Ciri and see if there was something he could do for her. But the notion of life at court, wearing uncomfortable, binding clothing and making small talk with small minds did not appeal to him.

Maybe some old friends could be found with work to be had. But where to start? Cerys or Hjalmar in Skellige? Zoltan in Novigrad?

Geralt realized that his whirlwind life had suddenly come to a grinding halt.

He was lonely.

 


	2. A Chance Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt meets an old friend of his and his interest is peaked.

* * *

"Geralt?"

The soft feminine voice broke into his reverie and he turned suddenly. The noise of an active city generally dulled his mind, filtering out all the din, his ears only hearing what was important to him at the time.

His amber cat's eyes met with familiar green ones framed by pale golden hair. Sensuous pink lips curved upwards in a smile.

"Keira!" he exclaimed.

Keira Metz looked at him with a mixture of pleasure and curiosity. She looked different than the last time he had seen her, what felt like a lifetime ago. She wore an elegant deep blue cloak over a dress of bright yellow with lace insets and embroidered with pearls. Everything about her screamed nobility. She had certainly made some big changes in her life.

"You look rather dashing, Geralt," she said with an impish wink. "Then again you were never displeasing to look at!"

"What are you doing here?" he asked, a small smile tugging the corners of his lips at her compliment. “Thought you had gone off with Lambert."

"I did. We traveled together for a few months but you know I don't do the _rustic_ thing very well. You remember Alexander's notes from the Tower that I took with me? I cured the Catriona plague with my research. Had you not heard?"

Her gaze was unwavering, and although her clothing had changed, her expression was still the same old Keira.

"Made a fine living as a result of it, am I right?" he asked.

"Indeed! I am glad you let me keep those notes. It made all the difference for me. Lambert helped me procure what I needed for my research and I found a safe city to work it out in. The thought of being nothing for the rest of my life...." She looked away, and the expression on her face told him that she wanted to erase that trip down memory lane.

"Look beautiful, Keira," he said softly.

She looked up at him, the smile coming back to her face, reaching her eyes. Her hair was longer now, past her shoulders and the sides were held back by a brightly carved silver clasp. The details of her outfit showed that she had indeed risen above those years she had spent as a swamp witch in hiding. A time she had loathed deeply and sought a way out of, which he had conveniently provided when he met up with her in Velen so many years ago.

"And what of you, Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarcie? Have you come to visit Cirilla?"

He shook his head, smirking at the sound of his ostentatious name on her lips. "After she decided to stay with her father and take over as Empress, we parted ways. Didn't agree with her decision. Been too hard for me to see her. This is the closest I've gotten."

Keira saw the pain in his eyes and heard it in his voice. Ciri had, for all intents and purposes, been his daughter. She knew there had been other women in his life, women he had loved, and obviously now had lost. The busy street with the merchants and people moving to and fro seemed like the wrong place to have such a sensitive conversation.

"There seems to be much we can catch up on," she said touching his arm lightly. "Would you come with me, to my home? It's not that far from here, unless where you are staying is closer?"

"Staying at the Dearg Inn. Unfortunately it's not set up for entertaining. One table and a bed."

She winked at him. "One does not really need more that that do they?"

"Forgot to mention a bath barrel."

"Mmm," she murmured. "I disagree with you, it sounds very entertaining indeed!"

 _Same old Keira_ , he thought. Full of charm and seduction, unafraid to share her bed with anyone she found interesting. He had been of interest to her once, when she had wined and dined him, made love with him on the shore, only to use a sleep spell on him so she could run off and steal some mage's notes from his tower on an island nearby, which Geralt had conveniently cleared of monsters and a curse for her. Those notes had ultimately helped her cure the plague and save lives, but it had ended a beautiful evening that Geralt had hoped would lead to more. When he had confronted her in the morning about it, she told him she planned to try and buy her way back into a courtier's lifestyle by bribing the insane Radovid with the plague research. Geralt had told her that it would come to no good, Radovid hated magic users and would murder her and take the research to create a weapon. He convinced her to seek the safety of the only place he knew, Kaer Morhen.

After the battle of Kaer Morhen, she had been angry with him, telling him in no uncertain terms that if she had known what awaited her there she would never have come. Geralt had apologized telling her that he didn't know how things would come to pass, that he had sent her there to safety so she could work on the research in peace. Keira hadn't wanted to hear it, she had walked away from him and the following morning she had disappeared with Geralt's witcher brother Lambert. She was a powerful sorceress and they had needed her to free Ciri from the Wild Hunt's pursuit. Triss had tried to speak to her but Keira would have none of it. It still bothered Geralt that she had abandoned him when he needed her. They had known each other a long time and she was that one other woman he had wanted to have more than a casual relationship with.

She was still as beautiful as always, her laughing eyes easily roaming his face and down his body. When Keira Metz looked at you with appreciation, it was a rather pleasant experience. He was glad she was no longer angry with him.

"I accept your invitation," said Geralt. "Lead the way."

 


	3. The House of Metz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt is astounded by the opulence of Keira's magnificent home. She shares a secret with him.

* * *

Keira's home turned out to be a mansion in the affluent part of the city, within view of the palace. For a woman alone, it was outrageously larger than one needed, but this was Keira, and she could easily live in a palace by herself given the opportunity.

Fresh flowers filled the garden, impeccably groomed walkways wound around the house. A wide, impressive staircase ended at massive carved set of double wooden doors. Inside, a large flower arrangement sat on a table, its fragrance filling the room. A distinguished older man approached and bowed.

"Welcome to the House of Metz. Milady, shall I see to your guest?" he asked.

"No, Davram. I shall take care of our needs. I will ring for you if I need you. Announce dinner as usual please, he will be joining me."

He nodded and disappeared into the bowels of the house.

"I have several servants," said Keira as she led Geralt into the sitting room. It was lavishly furnished and decorated, she had most definitely spared no expense. Her cure for the plague had come at a price to buyers all over, and the coin was still rolling in. "They see to the everyday management of this place and keep it in good repair. Most are from the outlying villages, but Davram served the family that had once lived here. He is intimately acquainted with the place, and very loyal. The other is Millicent whom I hired to oversee the maids, but she chose to also handle the cooking.”

“What happened to the family? They downsize?”

She looked at him wryly. “They died. Of the plague.”

“Ironic,” said Geralt with raised eyebrows.

“Quite,” responded Keira.

"You've done well," said Geralt looking around at the shelves of books and the artwork. He was surprised to find a portrait of himself on one of the walls. It was a perfect likeness, right down to his scar and the wild strands of hair he never managed to tame. He looked at her in surprise. She joined him and linked her arm with his.

"As I told you Geralt, you were never displeasing to look at. I have another one of you. In my bed chambers. Would you care to see it?"

There was that look again, that challenging but impish set to her lips and the sparkle in her eyes. Did she even know that she did this? Was it intentional or had it become another part of who she was, automatically turning on the charm?

He shook his head. "Mind if I sit down? Still bone weary from my travels, slept for two days at the Inn. Felt like only a few hours."

She indicated the chaise, and sat down opposite him in a finely upholstered chair.

Davram rang the dinner bell as they were still engrossed in conversation. Geralt had detailed his experiences to Keira, and she had done the same. He learned of her close calls with death several times on her journeys with Lambert, and how there had been spies sent to steal the formula she had worked so hard on when it went to human trials. Keira had had to live like a wretch underground in a secret place to work. Initially she said she had not been working on anything to do with plagues. It had come about by accident and had changed everything. As a purveyor of aphrodisiacs and other "helping" potions like glamors, Keira had made a modest living initially. Suddenly she was a celebrity and had to protect herself and her discovery. The situation had irked her. She wanted to continue with her own research, not go into hiding once more. However, the allure of riches was a large incentive for her, and so she disappeared for awhile until she began amassing her wealth. After that there was no point in anyone stealing her formula.

"What was your research?" he asked.

She looked away, then down at her lap, where suddenly the threads were of great interest to her. She picked silently at them, and Geralt waited patiently. Finally he said softly to her "You'll find no judgment here, Keira. You can tell me. "

She sighed deeply. "I was seeking a cure for my infertility," she said quietly. When he did not seem to react nor say anything, she sat up straighter. "There. The promiscuous Keira Metz, lover of all...wants a child. I have always wanted one."

He nodded as things clicked into place. "You figured the more men you bedded, the greater the chance."

"I hoped, Geralt. I _hoped_ that the sorceresses' curse had not gotten to me, that I was a complete woman and that I might conceive and bear a child."

"With anyone who said yes."

"I am not a whore, Geralt," she said indignantly, an edge of defense in her voice.

"A whore gets paid," he said, his voice belying no emotion. He immediately regretted the unkind comment when he saw the pain in her eyes. It had always bothered him that Keira used her body as currency to achieve her own ends. Now, it seemed fairly clear why Keira had been the way she was. He had meant it as an observation and it had come out as a judgment when he had said there would be none.

"I'm sorry," he said simply. "Need to know then, why'd you plough _me_? You know I'm sterile and could never have given you what you wanted."

Her eyes were narrowed as she looked at him, uncertain now how much to share and how much to hold back. "We had been close, and I was appreciative of what you'd done for me," she replied, then stood.

Geralt felt a stinging inside him. She had made love with him as a form of payment and nothing else.

"Davram has called us to supper," she said coolly. "Please join me."

Geralt sighed. Keira had put up a wall around herself and rightly so. His words had hurt her and she had closed the door on him _. I'm doomed to wandering this world alone_ , he thought dismally. _And it might be a just punishment for my lack of couth_.

The dining hall was magnificent, and seemed a terrible waste for only one person to enjoy. But that was Keira. She didn't need a court or a host of friends at her side. Opulence wasn't just a show of status to her, but a measure of her own personal comfort. She didn't care what others thought of her when it came to how she felt.

Geralt sat beside her while Davram and a footman saw them through dinner. They talked about the city, about the entertainment to be found, and of many lighthearted things and situations suitable for public ears. When the meal had ended and they retired to the sitting room once more, Geralt sat beside her and listened to her tell of her other adventures.

Afterwards they sipped some wine and sat in reflective silence for awhile. Presently Geralt looked at her and asked what had been on his mind since they last parted.

"Keira, why didn't you and Lambert stay and help us?"

The sorceress didn't bother to feign ignorance of the question, but she wasn't sure if the truth was the right thing to share.

"After saving Lambert's life during the battle, he owed me a favor. There was something I wanted his help with."

"And it couldn't wait until after we had saved Ciri?"

She saw the hurt in his eyes. She looked away. "I was worried he would change his mind."

Geralt shook his head. "Lambert might be a prick, but he keeps his word. Especially to a beautiful woman. We both know this isn't the truth Keira."

She stood up and walked to the portraits and stared at them, then to the books in the bookcases. She gestured around the room.

"Look around you, Geralt. _This_ is who I am. _This_ is what I am made for. I'm pretty clothes and 100 brushstrokes at night, rose gardens and fine cuisine. I am not dirt and death and destruction!"

"So you were afraid," he said simply.

"Yes!" she cried. "Lambert was injured and I used that and the favor as a reason to escape. I didn't want to, nor _do_ I ever want to be part of any battle! I'm not even any good at it!"

"We were all scared. Fear isn't something to be ashamed of. You're powerful Keira. I've seen what you're capable of. The world needs that. _I_ needed that."

Keira sat down hard on the nearest chair. "The world needs witchers and swordsmen who revel in death dealing. I do not. I'm sorry that I was afraid, that I wanted to retreat back into my safe zone. I'm not like Triss or Yennefer who can kill without a thought. It's just not who I am."

Her eyes became misty and she blinked several times. "I'm sorry I disappointed _you_ , most of all."

Night had fallen. From the open windows the chirping of the crickets could be heard. Geralt stood and gazed down at her.

"It's late. Time for me to return to the Dearg. Thank you for the nice meal," he said, heading for the door. Keira did not move but as he reached it she called out.

"Will you return tomorrow, Geralt? Please?"

He turned and looked at her sitting there in her large luxurious room, small and alone and he felt pity for her.

"I will," he said, and headed out into the night.

 


	4. The Lab Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt upsets Keira and thinks of a way to make it right.

"It'll make you much coin if you can manage to find the cure," said Geralt as he looked over Keira's notes in her laboratory area. There were myriad animals in cages, specimens used to test her theories. A scrying construct sat on one side of the room, and numerous bookcases lined one wall.

"For once I don't care about coin," she said. "I _must_ find a way to do this."

He sat down on a stool and watched her. "Don't you want more than just a random donor to father this child you want?"

She did not look at him but kept working. "More?"

"Love, someone to raise this child with? Someone you care about?"

"That complicates things needlessly Geralt. I simply need someone who will do their part and move on. I _am_ discerning and will not just take anyone. Now quiet a moment."

She spoke the words of magic and infused her decoction as it steeped.

He sat silently as she worked, concentration on her face. Finally she looked up.

"I have high hopes for this batch Geralt," she said with a smile.

"Then I wish you luck," he responded.

She moved to the cages and took out two large rats. They were of the longer haired spotted variety, the kind born infertile. They were the choice for children's pets as they could not proliferate when a forgetful youngster allowed the animals to play together. The creatures would copulate as their instincts were intact, however nothing ever came of it. Spotted rats were born of regular litters, removed, hand raised and sold for a fair sum. Noble children had clothing made for the creatures and would often be seen toting them around the city in equally fancy carriers.

Keira handed him a male. "Please hold this one while I give the female this new batch. I have not begun testing the males yet. Just the female spotteds with regular rats."

"Thought you hated rats."

"Not really. I had to make up _something_ to motivate you to remove that curse on the tower for me. There is nothing more motivating to a witcher it seems than a damsel in distress."

Geralt eyed the animal warily but took him. Suddenly the rat squirmed and he held a bit tighter, than without warning the rat sunk his teeth into his hand.

"Shit!" he cried and dropped the rat onto the table. His hand hit a stand of vials and knocked it over. It was a domino effect. First one stand then another, and liquids mixed haphazardly everywhere. The liquid Keira had been working so diligently spilled onto the table.

"Geralt!" she shouted. "What are you doing!?"

The male rat began to lick up the liquid. Keira grabbed it and put it quickly back in the cage and placed the female in with him.

She furiously began to mop up the awful mess after desperately trying to get some of the new decoction back into the vial. It was a lost cause. The various liquids had mixed and there was no saving it.

"I'm sorry, Keira! Little bastard bit me!"

She turned on him, anger on her face. "There are several parts of this decoction that took many difficult ingredients and many weeks of work! A little nip from a rat and you have ruined everything!"

"It hurt!" he exclaimed, showing her his finger with the blood rivulets on it.

"And you kill monsters for a living!" Keira railed at him, slapping his hand away.

Her face had reddened and she went back to cleaning up the mess. "Get out of here you clumsy oaf!" she ordered.

Geralt backed up towards the door and turned to go, but not before he saw the tears coursing down her cheeks.

He said nothing, she was upset enough as it was. He walked back to the Inn, once more affirming the fact that he was doomed to walk the world alone.

* * *

Geralt spent the next few days with Roach in the wilds, earning some coin and helping a few people out. He camped outside and did not return to the city, but Keira didn't leave his mind. Was she still angry? Would she speak to him now? If not, how long would it take for her to cool down? Maybe he needed to bring her a peace offering. What would she like? An amulet? A vial of some disgusting ingredient?

Geralt had come to a decision about her situation. Keira had never been one to fall for his charms. No matter how he tried, she had never taken him seriously. Even their very first meeting, when she had quite literally fallen on him from a window, would have been an event suitable for a theatrical comedy, if it hadn't happened during the coup at Thanedd Island. She had always been so free and easy and unconcerned about the politics going on around her. She had acted as mage advisor for King Foltest, but when he was killed the new ruler distrusted her. He had one of his own mages try and kill her by throwing her from a window. Geralt had then killed _him_.

Keira had never been comfortable in battle situations despite her great power, but he had seen her wield that power several times. He;d always had a weak spot for her from the day they had met, and now he understood that her behavior had been just another means to an end. Keira was sensuous and passionate and Geralt had wanted more than a casual sexual interlude from her for a long time. The fact that she wanted a child showed that she was not inclined to the life of a wandering sorceress or witcher. Maybe now she was ready to take on a permanent relationship with one man.

He figured to roam the merchant's stalls and shops and see if a suitable bauble could be found. For a woman of wealth and privilege, finding a gift would be difficult. A young village girl approached Geralt with a basket hanging on her arm. "Would you like to buy a flower sir?" she asked sweetly. He looked at her as she offered up a single red rose. _Well, this will have to do_ , he thought and went to clean himself up before presenting himself to the House of Metz.

 


	5. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt's emotions get the better of him and he makes a deal with Keira she can't refuse.

* * *

Keira accepted his gift and smelled it. The fresh fragrance pleased her, and the soft petals against her cheek made her smile. She had some of the most beautiful rose bushes in the city right in her garden, but this rose, given to her by Geralt, was more precious to her than the lot of them. She silently placed a spell upon it, to hold it in stasis so it did not die.

"Thank you Geralt," she said. "In case you were concerned, I have begun to redo the batch that was lost. I don't want you in there anymore however. It is best that I work alone. This is important to me, please do not make light of it."

There was now a sadness in her eyes as she looked up at him, and he could stand it no longer. Placing his hands gently on the sides of her face, he brought his lips down to hers in a soft kiss. She grabbed his wrists and pulled them away, stepping back.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, her voice shocked and confused.

"Not the reaction I expected," he said, rather surprised.

"No? You just grab a woman and kiss her and expect her to be alright with it?"

"We're hardly strangers, Keira," he said with a frown. "Known one another for a long time. Made love with you that night by the shore. Now you are offended by a kiss? Don't need anything from me I suppose."

"Why did you come back?" she asked, her tone irritated.

"To tell you that I'll help you!"

She eyed him warily. "Help me? With what exactly? I have enough coin and can afford to buy anything I need, including help."

He stepped closer to her. "I'll father your child, if you can cure my sterility even temporarily."

Keira's lips parted as though to speak, but no sound came out. She stared up at him, aghast.

"You would do that for me?"

"Just said that didn't I? I'll get what you need and do what you want. Once you've conceived I'll be gone and you won't need to worry about taking on with strangers. Unless you don't consider me worthy."

Keira backed up and sat down hard in the nearest chair, still staring at him. "I...I don't know what to say. You _would_ be the perfect candidate."

Geralt watched her closely, trying to figure out what she was thinking and feeling.

"Could be more between us," he began.

Her expression closed and she shook her head. "No, Geralt. I will not stand in line for you. I thank you for your offer but I don't want the complications of a relationship, not with someone who can't stay in one place. A child needs a stable family. _That_ is something I can give."

"A child _needs_ a father and a mother," said Geralt. "Even a busy father is better than none at all."

"Your lifestyle is not _busy_. It's absent," said Keira. "When you grow bored and restless, you take that horse of yours and go. You go where you want, when you want. That's not a life for a noble family. It's the existence of a peasant. I 'll accept your offer. But there'll be no strings attached. That, I must make _very_ clear to you."

Keira looked at his handsome face, and tried to harden her resolve. She had fallen deeply in love with Geralt many years ago, and watched him romance one woman after another, never able to choose and stand by any of them. They would wait for him, loyal as hounds, for a decision that never came. They had wanted to tame him, to change him into someone he was not, to have him follow them wherever they led, to have him give up his happiness for theirs.

Keira had never wanted that. She didn't want a pet. She wanted a friend and a lover. He provided her with an animated friendship, but she had wanted him to choose her as a lover as well, and had taken many opportunities to show him how much she truly felt for him. She didn't invent crises to be rescued from, and aside from that one situation at the Tower, didn't play the damsel in distress. She was not, however, above asking him for his help in genuine situations, especially those that allowed the two of them to be alone together.

When they had parted ways originally, Keira was sure she would never see him again. He had been caught up with Yennefer and despite how unhealthy a relationship it seemed to be, he didn't even try and break free of it. It hurt Keira to think that she would treat him so much better if he could only see her as more than a friend.

When she met up with him again near Midcopse, her heart had been delighted. Yennefer was not with him and he didn't mention her at all. It was a lucky chance that Geralt had come along when he did, for Keira had her sights on some research notes left behind by a mage in a local tower. The mage, Alexander by name, had cursed the place; it was overrun with rats, and he had been killed. Keira had originally tried to befriend him in her usual way but was unable to break the curse, and with it in place there was no way she could get near it. It infuriated her that there was no one who could see to the task. It seemed like fate that Geralt had come along, the man she loved so deeply and couldn't forget, who could also be a great help to her. He had cleared the place out, and searched for something she said she wanted. She had thanked him and said no more. There had been no need for him to know what her true objective had been.

Keira had wined and dined Geralt one night soon after and let him into her body as she had her heart. It seemed to her that he did not see her in the same light. To him she was just someone to have some fun with, to engage in a night of pleasure, then continue on with life as though it had never happened. He mentioned meeting up with Yennefer at some point, and that he was searching for his adopted daughter Ciri. Keira supposed it was her own fault, she knew what he was all about. He was a lover _and_ a fighter and always would be. She had been sure she would never see Geralt of Rivia again after that night and had enjoyed him, then put him to sleep so she could retrieve her bounty. She promised herself to forget about him, to not allow the indulgence of imagining a life with him at her side. It would hurt too much when he proved to be what he always had been.

But Keira couldn't turn away the opportunity to bear his child. To lie with him again, to feel those strong arms around her, to partake of those incredible kisses. Geralt was an accomplished lover and knew how to bring great pleasure to his partner. He spared no effort in making every session with him a memorable event. Keira swallowed away the memories and awaited his answer.

He nodded slowly. "If that's what you truly wish, Keira. Give you what you desire and go."

She stood. "Good. A business arrangement where we both know what to expect." She held out her hand and he took it, squeezing it lightly once then letting go. What he wanted to do was take her in his arms and shake her, shake some sense into her, shake the fog away from her brain so she could see how much he cared for her, how much he wanted to be with her, even if it meant living in that opulent house.

He had let her go once before, but there had been no other way. He'd had to find Ciri.

"Go now, Geralt," she said softly. "I will call for you once I have achieved some form of success with my work. I can't tell you when that will be. I shall go through your friend Dandelion. If something should happen to you, or you change your mind, make arrangements so I am notified. It would be unfair to wait for someone who will not show up."

"I give you my word, Keira," he said, and turned away. She was closing the door on him again, keeping him at arm's length, treating him as a business partner rather than someone she could love.

Geralt almost ran back to the Inn. His hands and insides were quivery, and his heart was racing far too quickly. His impeccable self control was slipping. He had offered to conceive a child, against all odds, with a woman who did not love him.

But it was Keira. Beautiful, clever, playful Keira. Despite her many flaws, she would make a good mother for their child.

* * *

The following morning Geralt lay on his bed, hands behind his head, and thought about the situation in depth. He and Keira were both powerful in their own way. Would this baby be the same? Could there be deformations, aberrations, mutations? Would the child be normal, completely devoid of any power whatsoever? Would Keira mind that, or was she trying to create someone she could teach, someone who would walk in her footsteps? Geralt had many questions and he worried. This would be a part of him also. If they _did_ conceive this child, _he_ was also responsible for their well being and that included being loved. If Keira decided that she didn't want them for whatever reason was he prepared to take on the role of a proper father?

Perhaps his offer had been made too quickly. The emotional aspect of the situation had taken over, made him impulsive. Loneliness had clouded his brain. Maybe it was not such a good idea after all. Maybe he could feign his death. Or maybe he could step up and not consider cowardly means to back out of this deal. He remembered how Yennefer had tried to cure her infertility also. How she had once wanted a child with him as well. It never happened. She was completely unable to cure herself, and never even tried to work with his situation. Suddenly Geralt realized with sadness that Keira's dream would most likely never come to fruition, and therefore did not have to worry, but part of him was cheering on Keira's efforts to find a solution because it meant so much to her.

* * *

Geralt didn't see Keira for many weeks. He debated going to see her, just to say hello, to maybe take her out for a stroll or just sit and talk of mundane things. But each time he began the walk to her part of the city, he ended up turning around and taking Roach for a ride instead, or picking up a contract.

His days blended into one another. His coin added up and was never spent.

Geralt pondered his cowardice at going to see Keira, and it irked him.

He bathed, dressed, and decided he would at least check in with her if nothing else.

* * *

"Geralt," she said as Davram led him to her. She greeted him warmly and gave his hand a squeeze. When the steward had left, Keira turned to Geralt with a smile, her eyes bright.

"Do you remember the incident in the lab?" she asked.

"How could I forget," he responded. "Made you forbid me from entering the place again."

"The formula is a success! But things have gone quite differently than I expected."

Geralt's heart sped up. "Do tell," he said.

"I dosed the female spotted rat, but the male lapped up the mess on the table as you recall. I had put them in the cage together, and left them that way. They mated. The female is pregnant!"

He furrowed his brow. "Both rats were sterile. You are saying that they are both cured? There can be no mistake?"

"There can always be errors in experiments Geralt," she chided him. "But this case seems to be miraculous. There _are_ two problems however."

He leaned back against the desk, arms crossed. Keira looked radiant, and he was affected by it. Her face was animated and she walked back and forth. He did his best to appear neutral but inside he was everything but.

"I have no idea what constituted the mixture he ingested is the first one. And the second problem...well the male has died."

Geralt blinked. "Died?"

She nodded. "Yes. I have no idea at this point if his death was caused by the mixture or if he would have died regardless. He could have had a congenital anomaly. He could have been an older animal. I do not require the ages of the test subjects I purchase. So you see Geralt, I am so close, yet so far! I certainly wouldn't want to kill _you_ by feeding you this decoction!"

She laughed merrily. Her dream was close to coming true. She had allowed herself to envision the conception, and one day holding her own child in her arms, a child that would look, at least in part, like their handsome father.

"You are happy," Geralt observed. He wanted to embrace her, run his hands through her soft hair, even kiss those lips of hers.

He remained where he was and enjoyed her moment of happiness.


	6. Lost Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Keira enjoy a night out together but neither seem able to communicate their feelings for one another.

* * *

Keira draped the cloak around herself and checked her reflection in the mirror once more. She felt Geralt's eyes on her and became a bit self conscious. Did she look alright? He had agreed to go to the theater with her to see some play or other. He had no knowledge of such things and simply wore what she gave him and waited to depart. She had asked him for his opinion on the clothing she chose, gave him every opportunity to choose something more to his liking, but he had not had a thing to say other than noble clothing was ill fitting and he disliked all of it. He looked absolutely dashing and she hoped he found her equally attractive. _She_ knew she was beautiful, but not knowing for sure how someone else saw her was a bone of contention for the sorceress. It took her far longer to choose her outfit that usual and she was still unsure that she had chosen correctly. She was desperate to know if he was pleased. She did not have to wait long to find out.

"You look beautiful, Keira," said Geralt quietly. He meant every word.

She smiled up at him in appreciation. He was always one to compliment a lady, and she truly believed that he meant it. She saw it in his eyes that he enjoyed looking at her, and the way he had kissed her that day...her heart had raced for quite awhile, even though her brain was screaming at her to stay level headed.

As they walked along the street, her hand through his arm, she thought about that day. It had been an unexpected moment and she was not sure why Geralt had kissed her that way. She had never known him to play mind games. If he wanted something he said so. Geralt had always presented as up front and straight forward.

She loved his kisses.

He had said he wanted more between them. But knowing Geralt he wouldn't be able to stick to that sentiment for long. It was too risky for her.

Keira could not afford to fall in love with him again. She knew how it would turn out. He would suddenly become distracted by someone else, or some _thing_ else and disappear again. Geralt was a man who could not commit and was best avoided in the romantic sense. _Someone needs to tell my heart to agree to this_ , she thought looking up at him. Keira caught his sidelong glance and the glimmer of a smile on his lips. She wanted to say something flirty and clever but thought the better of it. It was hard to remain stalwart when he did the same, and she did not want to complicate matters, not when her dreams were so close to becoming reality.

Geralt could not get his mind away from the warmth of her hand on him. He tried to focus on other matters, least of all on Keira's experiments being so close to success. However, her excitement was contagious. It was possible, now more certain than ever, that they would have a child together.

 _No,_ he corrected himself, _she_. _She_ would have a child.

He would be out of the picture once it was born.

 _Why, Keira?_ he wondered. _Why do you reject me now, when my heart is open and I'd like to see what we can make of this. Do you think me incapable of giving up the wild life of a witcher and settling down with you and our baby?_

 _Our_ baby. He wanted to slap that notion out of his head. _Her_ baby. It would be hers alone.

 

They had both enjoyed the play and on the way home talked about Dandelion and what he might be doing at present time. They both agreed that his establishment, the Chameleon, must be very busy. They discussed possibly heading there to visit him, but as it was several days journey to Novigrad, Keira preferred to stay home and continue work on her experiments.

"We can go afterwards, Geralt," she said. "Once I'm pregnant."

"Long journey like that would be too hard on you so I don't think so. You can remain safely in that gargantuan house of yours surrounded by soft pillows and sweetmeats."

Keira gave a light laugh. "Look at you, Geralt of Rivia, all protective and sweet!"

He suppressed a smile. "No. I kill monsters for a living."

She squeezed his arm playfully. "Yet a rat bite is too much to bear!"

"Should probably thank me. If I hadn't thrown it down and knocked everything over, you would not be as close to success as you are now."

"This is true," she responded. _But now as I see my dreams coming to life, I must also see the inevitable end of having you at my side_ , she thought wistfully.

A grocer had received a shipment, and his crates were blocking one side of the road. A large and deep looking puddle lay before them, and mud had been stirred up everywhere. There was no clear spot to walk. Keira looked down at the edge of her cloak with dismay. It was already soiled and may never come clean again.

Suddenly Geralt turned, scooped her up into his arms and waded into it.

"Geralt!" she shrieked, laughing. "You will ruin your lovely boots!"

"I can get another pair," he said, slogging through the mess. It didn't matter a fig to him if his boots or his clothing were ruined. He held her tightly to him, her arms around his neck, and wished the puddle were the size of a lake.

Keira's face was inches from his as she clung onto him. He smelled wonderful and she wanted to bury her face in his neck. As they reached dry ground, Geralt stopped. He turned his head and his eyes met hers, wide and staring. There was something in her expression he had never noticed before. It was a softness.

They both spoke one another's name at the same time, then she burst out laughing. He smiled, a rare occurrence for the witcher.

"You first, Keira," he whispered.

She tilted her head, her lips so close to his she could feel his breath on her skin. _Kiss me again, Geralt,_ she silently begged. _This time I will return it_.

He waited for her to say something and hoped she could not feel his racing heart. He remembered her reaction the last time he had kissed her, and didn't want to experience that again, despite the fact he would barely have to move in order to meet her lips. Keira was seductive _all_ the time. It was just the way she carried herself and not an open invitation for intimacy.

"You...you can put me down now," she whispered when he made no move. Her heart sank and she realized that he _had_ given her the opportunity that day to accept him but she had reacted negatively and now he would not try again. To him she had always felt like just a pretty toy, and she had reaffirmed that impression in his eyes _. I should have returned your kiss,_ she thought sadly. _Now it seems I may have lost my only chance at loving you._

It seemed that the only thing they could do with one another was a business relationship.

They were both quiet the rest of the way home.

Geralt returned to the Inn after seeing Keira safely inside her mansion. His heart as well as his soggy boots were heavy. He'd never had trouble convincing a woman to be with him. Just _this_ one. She seemed immune to his charm. _I kissed her!_ He thought as he lay down in his bed. _How much more can you do to show someone you are interested in them? We were never on the same page from the day we first met, there was Ciri and Yennefer and all these loose ends I needed to tie up. She understood this, never asked for more_. For awhile, Keira had always been there for him when things fell apart. She was playful, fun and kind. She took care of him, and only once in all their time together had they made love. Even that night he had casually mentioned it in jest. It hadn't occurred to him that she would accept. But afterwards she treated him as she always had. Her old friend.

 _Need to convince her that I'm not the run around dog I used to be_ , he told himself. _Has to be a way to make her see that having me in her life is a good thing._

Sleep claimed him and the last thing he thought was how beautiful Keira had looked as he had held her in his arms.

 


	7. The Truth About Djinns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt buys Keira a gift and second thinks it, he goes to see Dandelion in Novigrad, and on his return he and Keira have a long talk on the truth of his former relationship with Yennefer.

* * *

“What is it?" asked Keira as the crate was delivered to her front step.

She saw Geralt walk up behind the delivery man.

"Hope it's the cradle I bought you. For the baby," he said.

"You are getting ahead of yourself Geralt," quipped Keira, all the while studying the crate. "My experiments have not yielded a viable formula yet."

"Saw it in the window of the mercantile. Thought you'd appreciate it. If you don't like it I'll send it back."

She looked at him and smiled. "No, it's fine. Thank you! Can I see it?"

He cracked the crate open and pulled up a few mounds of packing. Reaching inside he pulled up a small rocking cradle. It was a pale yellow with tiny flowers painted on it. The bedding was white and yellow stripes. It was beautifully crafted, and Keira was awestruck.

The thought that one day in the hopefully not too distant future, this beautiful cradle would safely hold her and Geralt's child came crashing down on her.

"It is beautiful...just _beautiful_...thank you Geralt," she whispered as she ran her hand along the smooth wood. Tears filled her eyes and she busied herself putting the paper back into the crate. She refused to allow him to see her cry.

"Davram!" she called through the door.

The servant appeared and bowed. "Milady?"

"Please have someone bring this to the storage room upstairs."

He nodded and disappeared again.

She was going to put it in a storage room? Didn't this woman have a nursery all planned? Isn't that what women did when they wanted a child? Plan out every last detail? Geralt felt and most likely _looked_ extremely puzzled.

Keira didn't meet his eyes but began brushing packing dust from her dress, mumbling about dust and dirt and the downstairs maids needing to sweep again. She said not another word about the cradle.

 _Well_ , thought Geralt, _perhaps that wasn't the right gift_. She obviously didn't want him bringing her items for her child. _Very well_ , he thought. _I'll find something else to make her happy_.

"I have some things to do," he said as two servants came and took the crate away. "You know where to find me if you need anything."

Keira nodded absently. The beautiful cradle would be uncrated and set up in the little room she had created for the baby. Until the success with the rat she had not dared to go so far, but she knew that it was safe to do so now. It was just a matter of time, and it brought her such joy to make the preparations. Once she was pregnant she would not dare take any risks, including being too physical and busy. She wanted her child's nursery set up and completed before she conceived.

Geralt's beautiful gift had touched her so deeply. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and ask him what he wanted her to do to prove to him how deeply she cared for him. Why were men such dogs, wanting only to run around and never settle down?

* * *

Going to see Dandelion in Novigrad," announced Geralt a few days later. "You're welcome to come along."

Keira shook her head. "I must continue my work. Give him my best." She wanted to add that she would miss him but thought better of it.

He nodded and was gone. She watched him ride off on Roach and wished she _had_ said something more. What if something happened to him on the road? What if he decided never to return? _No,_ she thought. _We have a deal and that includes him telling me if he has changed his mind_. But still...the roads were dangerous places. _Stop it, Keira!_ she admonished herself. _He's the one person who can take care of himself in the wilds without any problem._ She stood in the doorway longer than was necessary, thinking of Geralt.

* * *

Dandelion was ecstatic to see his old friend. The wine and beer poured freely and the conversation went from loose and entertaining to deep as the evening went on.

"No idea what to do anymore," said Geralt.

"I'm still way back at the part where you said she thinks she can cure your...problem," said Dandelion. "Has such a thing ever been done? If she pulls this off, she'll be an even wealthier woman! Not bad for a village witch."

"Don't ever let _her_ hear you say that last bit," quipped Geralt with a grin. "It's liable to cause you some damage!"

"She's a smart girl," said Dandelion, pouring himself another drink. "I know she's had quite the life. Maybe you just can't treat her like the others. Maybe she wants and needs more than a roaming street dog!"

He ducked as Geralt tried to cuff him on the ear. "Not a dog. Learned from my mistakes. Need a woman who isn't running hot and cold at the same time. Like Keira. She's even tempered and focused, seductive and passionate. Sweet too."

Dandelion put on his serious face. "Do you really think you can make her happy? Better yet, do you think being with her will make _you_ happy?"

Geralt finished the last swig of his wine. "Yes and yes. The problem is _how."_

"You could write her a sonnet," offered Dandelion. "Or a poem. Women love that sort of thing."

"Maybe," said Geralt non committally. "But that's _your_ thing. I'm not a poet or a bard."

Dandelion laughed and gestured grandly around him. "This place is filled with both, and for a small fee any of them would be happy to help you!"

"Hmm. No, don't think so," said Geralt.

The friends spent their days reminiscing about old times, enjoyed the entertainment The Chameleon had to offer, but Geralt couldn't get Keira out of his mind. It was time to return to her.

* * *

Keira had been happy to see him. She was still struggling with the decoction, it kept killing her male rats after they mated.

"Maybe I just need to take it and see what happens," he offered.

Keira looked at him, shocked. "Geralt! I will not give you something that is potentially lethal!"

"How do you know it would be lethal for me? Witcher potions will kill non witchers. Maybe this one kills rats but not witchers. Could be the formula that _doesn't_ kill the rats _will_ kill me. Only one way to find out."

Keira frowned at him. "How can you be so nonchalant about death? I refuse to use you as a test subject! Besides, even if you don't die, there is an instability in the female's reaction to the potion. She miscarried all of her babies."

She looked so upset that Geralt's first impulse was to comfort her, but he stopped himself just in time.

"Keira," he said gently. "Let's take a break. Go for a walk in the garden. Eat something."

"Poor mother rat," she said sadly as she followed him out of the laboratory. "I would be devastated if that happened to us."

He nodded. "Mmhm. Would be tragic, and I don't want that to happen. But you've been working nonstop on this project. Need some time out. Why don't we travel a little, Keira? See a few new places, just you and I."

She turned to him sharply . "Just the two of us, on an adventure, like it used to be?"

"Sure. Maybe we can go search for a rare tome or an artifact. Something you want. I'll help."

Keira's eyes lit up. She loved the idea of it, but she hated the fact she would be missing out on so much time that could lead to her success.

"I don't know, Geralt. It seems silly to stop now when I am so close."

"Experiments aren't going anywhere. You aren't stopping. Just resting."

He walked backwards, holding out his hands, luring her towards him with a playful smirk.

Keira laughed , kicked off her shoes and ran at him, at which point Geralt turned and dashed off.

He hadn't felt so unfettered in a long time. Letting her chase him around the garden, up and down a tree, over a few fences, across a rock wall...and into the pond.

With a shriek she tripped over a root and fell in. "Geralt! Help me! My dress is too heavy!"

He was laughing so hard when he reached out a hand to help her up the side. But she had no intention of climbing out, she gave a sharp pull and he went tumbling in over her head.

Keira was the one laughing as she heaved herself up onto the grass. "Why do you always fall for that one Geralt? How many times have I gotten you with that ploy?"

He dragged himself up, sopping wet leather coat and boots. He watched her stand and remove her several overskirts until she was wearing only her small clothes. It was a nice enough day, the sun was out and they would dry off if they sat long enough. Geralt followed her example and removed his wet clothing, sitting in his shorts, feet dangling in the water.

"Have you got any new ones?" she asked, picking up a stick and tracing over the multitude of scars that cross-crossed his back.

"Is that a stick?" he asked, giving her a pained look.

She waved it in his face and he snatched it from her and threw it in the water. "Use your fingers."

"Oh, no, yuck," she said and lay back, suppressing a laugh. Pretending to have her eyes closed she watched his reaction through her lashes.

"What do you mean yuck?" he asked. "Didn't find me so yuck when we made love!"

"How do you know?" she asked, still doing her best not to laugh out loud.

"Judging by your sound effects, I'm fairly sure," said Geralt.

"Dog!" she exclaimed.

He had long ago accepted that he was not very pleasant to look at when undressed. His decades of battles had left many marks upon him, the worst being the deep scar on his chest where an Archgriffin had torn a chunk of flesh out of him. The ugly scar that ran from his forehead down his eye and across his cheek was the one that had bothered him the most initially, a reminder of his victory over a particularly nasty Cockatrice. He had fared better than many of his witcher brothers, whose faces and bodies were completely ravaged. There was nothing glamorous about his lifestyle and the healed over gashes and craters in his skin were a testament to that fact. Despite it, he had never received a horrified reaction from any woman. If anything, it was pity that crossed their eyes when they looked at him. However, he prided himself on the fact that they forgot all about his scars once he began to pleasure them.

He felt Keira's soft fingertips across his shoulders. "Yes there are a few new ones here," she said. "And this gash is most definitely new. Will you tell me the story of it?"

He closed his eyes, enjoying her touch. "It is from a battle with a Djinn," he responded.

Keira's eyes widened. "A Djinn! Dreadful devils, full of malice and resentment. Nothing good ever comes of interacting with those things. They are not easy to find, how did you come by it?"

Geralt knew that if was to have any future with Keira, he would have to start telling her all those parts of his life that he had never shared, the shameful parts, the dark parts as well as the positive parts.

"Keira, you remember my relationship with Yennefer?"

"How could I forget? The two of you were either at odds with one another or in the bedroom. She treated you horribly, as I remember it. I never did have the motivation to ask you why you pined after her like a lost puppy."

"Really long story. You sure you want to hear it?"

Keira propped herself up on an elbow and nodded. A few strands of wet hair clung to the side of his face, and without thinking, she reached out and smoothed them back. Geralt turned and his eyes met hers, a small smile on his lips. She pulled her hand back.

"Tell me. All of it."

"Started with Dandelion more than 20 years ago. Damn fool found a Djinn and released it, thinking he was going to get three wishes. I knew better. Warned him it was going to kill him. Tried to banish it with words I had been taught. Didn't understand the language, but it pissed off the Djinn pretty bad. I'd met Yennefer not too long before that, and knew she would know what to do.

I'd already started falling for her, but at the time she was simply curious about me as a witcher and could be pretty cold towards me. She plotted to capture the Djinn, thinking it could help power her magic. Knew it would come looking for me and Dandelion. Had us imprisoned in order to lure it back."

Keira was shocked. "She actually betrayed you for her own ends?"

"Everyone uses everyone else, Keira. You are no different, " said Geralt.

"I most certainly _am_ different!" she exclaimed indignantly. "I would not have someone who loved me arrested to get something I wanted! That was terrible of her!"

He gave a long exhale and looked over at her. He needed to tell her, to have her know there was nothing stopping him from being part of her life now. "You want to hear the rest?" he asked.

Keira nodded with tight lips. How could he have loved someone that could do that to him?

"While in the prison, Dandelion is still going on about the fact that the Djinn must grant his wishes. I didn't think it would. Tried to talk my way out, and when it didn't go well, made an offhand comment to the guard that I wished he would burst. He did. Realized Dandelion was right, and that the Djinn was close by. There was one wish left, and I needed to find Yen and stop her from trying to capture the thing."

"Wait," said Keira. "You had only used up one wish hadn't you?"

Geralt gave her a wry look. "The banishment spell was considered a wish. Might tell you what the words were at the end, if you ever let me finish."

Keira grinned and fell silent.

"Found Yen struggling with the Djinn. She yells at me to use up a wish that will free the thing from me and allow her to trap it. She was weakening pretty bad, I felt that if I did that, it would just kill her. So I figured on something that would save her life instead. Wished that Yen's and my fate would be forever tied together, that I would never lose her. It was self serving. It saved her. And that is what constituted our entire relationship. Me loving her, and she leading me around like a pup, sometimes coming on like a flame, other times solid ice. Spell left me powerless to do anything about it. If we went our separate ways, we were always led back together again by some circumstance. Pined after her all those years. Bound by my impetuous wish."

He stopped speaking and expected Keira to say something, but she was silently watching him, waiting for more.

"You asked about this new scar. Just before the battle of Kaer Morhen, after all these years, Yen decided she didn't know if she truly loved me or if it was an after effect of my wish. She located a Djinn and asked me to help. Wanted it to break the spell that bound us. Fought the beast and weakened it, getting wounded in the process, and she made her demand: break the other Djinn's spell and she would set it free. In a split second it was over. The Djinn vanished, and the invisible tether that kept me tied to her was suddenly gone. For Yen however, she still felt the same. Told me she loved me. I told her that the magic was gone for me. Felt nothing deeper than friendship for her. Wanted nothing more to do with me after that."

"I'm sorry Geralt," said Keira softly. Now she understood why he never seemed free to be with anyone else. She had thought it was love, when in reality it was nothing but a spell. With that gone, would Geralt now be able to love someone else? Was it the spell that made him act the way he had? Did she still have a chance?

Geralt looked so sad, and she wished she had not asked about the scar. But one more question remained on her mind.

"What was the incantation you used to banish it? It obviously didn't work!"

"It pissed that thing off so hard," he said with a smirk. "Basically I told it to go fuck itself!"

Keira thought about that for a moment. Djinns were _compelled_ to grant three wishes to its master, the person who found it.

She burst into laughter.

No wonder it had been so very angry!

 


	8. The Cabin In The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt takes Keira on an adventure, but when they arrive she is not impressed until he explains why he brought her there.

* * *

Geralt pulled the blanket carefully over Keira. He knew she would awaken with some awfully sore muscles from the position she had fallen asleep in, but he didn't want to risk waking her. He wished he could pick her up and carry her to her bed, but he was sure she wouldn't appreciate the intimate gesture.

 _Oh Keira_ , he thought. _So afraid to show your vulnerability. Wish I could tell you I'm in love with you but you would be only amused by that. Would tear my heart out. Guess I'm not as rough and tough as I make the world believe._

They had taken turns bathing after their afternoon outside, eaten dinner, had a few drinks, and just talked some more. Keira had fallen asleep pretty quickly. Geralt needed to get some things together for their time away from the city. He still planned to take her away from her troubles with the lab and the experiments. He knew she desperately wanted to find the answer, but once all of that had been set in motion, it would not be long before he would have to uphold his end of the bargain and leave. Despite that, he wanted her to be successful, and had come up with an idea.

He watched her sleeping for a few more minutes, gently brushing a few errant hairs away from her face.

Geralt didn't want to leave, but he had to.

He walked silently to the front door and left, heading for the Inn and his small room and his lonely bed.

He had to find a way to win Keira's heart.

* * *

She was staring at him in consternation when he came to get her at sunrise.

"Geralt, this is ridiculous!" she exclaimed. "I have _not_ completed my morning rituals at all! I'm barely awake! Please go away and come back later on."

She turned to leave but he caught her arm.

"Got a long way to go. Need to ride out now." He patted the saddle bags on Roach. "Got everything we need right here. Get your cloak."

Keira huffed but turned back to find her traveling cloak. Saying a few words to Davram, she faced Geralt with narrowed eyes, suspiciously spying the many rolls tied to Roach's saddle.

"You know I really hate camping! You better hope you can find a proper Inn for me to sleep in!"

She mounted her horse, Faris, an animal from her own stable, usually hooked up to her carriage. She had never ridden him before but when she had purchased him she was told he was finely trained in all aspects. Settling her skirts around her as best she could, she followed Geralt on Roach as he trotted through the streets to the main gate of the city.

"Where are we going?" she called out.

"You had no ideas, I decided you're coming with _me_ ," he responded.

"Everything I need is right here!" she quipped. _Especially what is right in front of me_ , she thought.

Once they got onto the main road, Keira cantered Faris up beside Roach.

"Is it far? Is that why you've dragged me from my home at such a terrible hour?"

"It's far enough. Now relax. Enjoy the ride."

Keira looked at him, at the upward curve of his lips, the breeze in his silver hair. She knew it was witcher mutations that had turned his hair that color. Their child could possibly have whatever his hair originally had been, likewise for his eyes.

"Geralt?"

"Mmhm"

"What color were your hair and eyes before the mutations?"

"Dark. Eyes were hazel."

She said nothing. The baby would have greenish eyes, but as for their hair, Geralt's dark and her very pale gold could result in an interesting combination. It made her smile.

They reached a hut on the edge of an escarpment some hours later, well past noon. Geralt dismounted and Roach wandered off a few feet to muzzle at some tufts of grass. Keira did not move. She had no desire to spend time in any forsaken hut in the middle of nowhere. What on earth was Geralt up to?

He rapped on the door and was let in. Minutes passed. Roach started wandering further.

"Roach!" she called, much as she would a dog. "Come back here!"

Of course, the horse paid her no mind. How could Geralt just let the animal roam free like that? With a frustrated sigh, she dismounted, tied Faris to a post and walked quickly in the direction she had seen the witcher's horse go.

"Roach!" she called out again. The animal was nowhere to be seen. She figured that Geralt would be annoyed when he returned to find his horse had disappeared. She walked into the underbrush looking everywhere. She was no good at tracking in any way. She had to rely on her sight to find anything.

Then she heard it. A deep growl, coming from her right. She stopped and turned. A large wolf was eyeing her, teeth slightly bared.

"Begone!" she cried. The beast growled louder and took a step forward.

She summoned a ball of electricity and shot it at. It hit its mark and the animal lit up, the stench of burning hair and skin assaulting her senses. The creature screamed and fell over, flailing. She backed away and turned back the way she had gone.

Or so she thought.

The road was nowhere in sight.

"I'm sure I came this way," she said out loud to herself. "I hadn't gone too far off the road!"

She turned around again and went back to the smoldering corpse, walking the other way instead. The ground inclined slowly and she soon stopped. She had not gone up any inclines. Turning again, Keira went in yet another direction.

Still no road.

She panicked and began to run.

The ground beneath her feet turned squishy as though there were a water table beneath it. Her boots filled up and the bottom of her dress and cloak became wet.

A swamp. Nothing good ever came out of a swamp.

She stopped and listened. Closing her eyes she summoned up another ball of electricity just in case.

A twig snapped behind her, and she spun and let loose.

"Ahh shit!" cried Geralt, flipping sideways to avoid it.

"Geralt!" she cried, running up to him and throwing her arms around his neck. He caught her and held her up for a moment, then quickly put her back on the ground. She let go and stepped back, smoothing out her dress.

"It was Roach, he suddenly wandered away, and I went after him. I'm sorry but I can't find him. I did electrocute a wolf back there though!"

"You got lost, Keira, didn't you," he said with a smirk on his face.

"Of course I didn't! I am looking for _your_ stupid horse!"

"Mmhm" he said and whistled loudly. Roach appeared from the underbrush and trotted over, a muzzle full of grass hanging from his lips.

She stared at him. "He does that? Comes to you when you whistle for him?"

Geralt nodded. "I never tie him. Just secure the reins. He stays near. Comes when I need him."

Roach bumped him with his head and Geralt shoved him away. "Watch it!" he warned the animal. The horse gave himself a shake and bumped him again for good measure.

"Since you aren't lost, why don't you get up on Roach here and lead the way back," suggested Geralt.

"He is too tall for me," responded Keira.

"You got lost," said Geralt with an amused snort.

Keira said nothing but walked beside him. Roach followed them, stopping occasionally to grab a mouthful of greenery. She was thinking about the feeling of his arms around her when he had held her for a moment. She had enjoyed that. Had he?

They returned to the little cabin and went inside. An older couple was sitting at a table. The woman was preparing beans, and the man was poring over some parchments.

"Keira," said Geralt. "This is Amand and his wife Yulia. Amand is a master alchemist and Yulia is a healer. He is going to teach me something new. We will be here awhile."

Amand looked up and nodded at her, then went back to his studies. Yulia smiled warmly. "Come, child. You can shuck the corn for our supper."

Keira blinked. "Why would I want to do that?"

Turning to Geralt, her chin raised in defiance she said "We aren't staying here for supper are we? We're going home, back to the city? In time for bed?"

Geralt looked at Yulia. "I apologize Yulia. Haven't told Keira everything yet."

"Oh 'tis no matter love," the older lady said and continued with her work.

Keira dragged Geralt by his tunic into a corner. "What's this all about? What do you mean you haven't told me everything yet. I want to go home!"

"Need to learn from Amand. Be a few days. Peaceful here, you need the rest."

"A few days?! I did _not_ agree to this. I agreed to an adventure with you, not a stuffy cabin in the middle of nowhere with two old people! Have they even got a water closet and a bath barrel?"

Geralt suppressed a smile. "Outside they do. Come with me."

Keira was beyond annoyed as he climbed up a ladder and beckoned her from the top. With a heavy sigh she followed. A crude bed sat in the middle of the floor by a dusty window. A small barrel formed a night stand, and two barrels with a plank across it formed the semblance of a dressing table. There was a basin and a pitcher of water on it.

Keira eyed Geralt with complete disbelief. "You have _got_ to be kidding me," she said. Was he going to try and sleep with her in that tiny bed?

"You can have the bed. I'll be quite happy on the floor," he said.

"I am _not_ sleeping in this place! I want to go home immediately Geralt! I told you I loathe camping!"

"I heard you. This isn't camping. This is a cabin. Wait here."

She opened her mouth to give him another piece of her mind, but he was already halfway down the ladder and out the door. Returning momentarily, Geralt set down the saddle bags and the roll that had been behind his saddle. He unrolled a large sheepskin and laid it on the bed, then turned to a chest in the corner. Opening it, he retrieved a large folded up quilt and lay it there as well. Next came two pillows.

"Throw some magic at this and make a bed to your liking," he said. A second sheepskin he lay on the floor beside the bed, with one of the pillows.

"No need to fear. I'll be here beside you."

"Don't be ridiculous Geralt! I'm not afraid. Revolted yes, afraid no."

"Don't be rude. This is their home." His voice was firm but Keira was not having it.

"And _my_ home is in the city, where my bath and bed in my _clean_ home are waiting for me!"

He crossed his arms and tilted his head. "We can have a bath in the bath barrel outside."

She blinked. "Outside? I am most certainly _not_ having a bath with you Geralt, inside _or_ outside!" She was completely indignant, in disbelief that he would have brought _her_ , of all people, to this dirty, tiny hovel in the middle of nowhere so _he_ could study alchemy.

He shrugged. You don't have anything I haven't seen or enjoyed before.”

Keira's mouth dropped open. "You dog! That was a complete mistake, and one I have been sorry for ever since!"

She turned from him and descended the ladder as quickly, flinging open the door and stepping outside. Her horse was no longer tied up to the post. Looking around, she had no idea where he was. He must have gotten loose somehow and was wandering around with Roach. _Fine_ , she thought angrily, _I will simply walk back to the city._ Pulling her cloak around her and setting the hood, Keira stomped off down the main road.

"Keira!" called Geralt. "Keira, stop!"

He caught up with her and grabbed her arm. "I know this looks terrible. But I have a good reason for bringing you here."

"If so, you better tell me or I am going home. I thought we would have a fun adventure, this is hardly that!"

He took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Yulia is a healer. Has remedied infertility in many women and men. She can help you, Keira! Share your knowledge."

He reached into his armored jacket and pulled out a leather bound book.

"My notes!" cried Keira.

He nodded.

"You really care about my project this much?" she asked softly, hugging the book to her chest.

"Mmhm," he responded _. I care about_ you _, Keira,_ he thought. _I want to see you happy_.

She said nothing, but looked up into his handsome face. "I take back what I said, about you being a dog."

"And the other part?" he asked.

She frowned. "What other part?"

"About it being a mistake. That night we made love at the lake. You truly sorry for it?"

She shook her head slightly. "No, I'm not sorry for it."

"Good," he said. "Neither am I."

She smiled at him, then headed back to the cabin.

 


	9. Riches to Rags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keira gets to know Yulia and bonds with her while shedding her noble skin for a time.

Yulia was a soft spoken and gentle woman just past 60 years of age. She had a little room where she kept her herbs, concoctions and decoctions. Drying plants and flowers hung from strands, and jars and bottles filled with the weird and wonderful lined the shelves on the walls.

"Geralt tells me you want to have a child, love," she said kindly, sitting on a stool, hands folded in her lap, facing Keira.

"Yes. Did he tell you that I am a sorceress? A cure for me is far harder than one for a regular woman. I'm not sure you can help me."

"The problem all comes from the same place," said Yulia. "I have not worked with witchers before however. Those potions and mutagens they take, the training they undergo, it breaks them."

"I know," said Keira sadly. "I have achieved a breakthrough with the male aspect, but unfortunately it has been killing my subjects! At first it didn't matter, I just wished to cure my own situation and find someone to father my child, a regular human."

Yulia raised her eyebrows. "And Geralt doesn't mind that? That you would have another man's child?"

Keira blinked then shook her head. "Oh, no...we are not together in that way. He is just an old friend, nothing more." She looked away.

Yulia nodded. "I'm sorry. I thought you were a couple. The way you look at one another told me so."

"What do you mean?" asked Keira, her heart suddenly racing.

"I mean that both of you look at one another with something that seems deeper than friendship."

Keira glanced back at where Geralt and Amand were talking. "Geralt has never seen me any other way, though long ago I wished he had. Anyway, do you really believe you can help me, even a little?"

Yulia smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Let me see your notes. I need to know what you have tried so far and what you haven't. I will do my best for you, Keira. Every woman deserves to know motherhood." Under her breath, very softly she also whispered "such a shame about the two of you."

* * *

Geralt and Keira settled into a comfortable rhythm at the cottage. Visitors came and went, sometimes for Amand, sometimes for Yulia. Some brought coin to pay them, others brought food. The older couple accepted both with graciousness.

Keira could not be completely comfortable there, it was a small cabin with the accompanying dust and dirt and that was something she loathed. There was only one main room where everything went on, and the bed where she slept up in the loft. Keira had thrown a bit of magic down to make it as luxurious as she could manage, but it was not home, and it was not what she wanted. She always felt dirty, and had conjured a screen around the bath barrel outside when she wanted to bathe which was twice a day. Geralt slept on the floor at night, beside her bed. She would hang over and touch his sleeping face, curl strands of his hair around her fingers, and deeply wish that she could take back her reaction to his kiss. But he was his usual self, playful, charming and kind, treating her as he would anyone he considered a friend. _But I want to be more to you Geralt_ , she thought.

A young mother came by the cottage in the morning to show off her baby. She said that Yulia had helped her with her infertility and with the birth. She let Keira hold her little daughter while she spoke with the healer. The sorceress paced up and down the cottage floor singing softly to the sleeping baby girl. She felt eyes on her and looked up to see Geralt, his lips curved in a smile, watching her.

"Looks good on you," he said and went back to his paperwork.

Keira handed the child back, and went outside. Tears threatened her eyes and she walked down the road a few feet and sat down on a stump. She couldn't suppress them anymore and let them flow freely. She was sobbing into her hands when Geralt came and knelt down beside her. It was too late to hide how upset she was. It wasn't something she wanted him to see.

"Sorry, Keira," he said. "Should have kept quiet, let you enjoy the baby. Things like this is why I am alone. Can't get it right."

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "It's just that I have been at it so long," she hiccuped. "I am closer now than ever before, but these new problems are so gargantuan I'm overwhelmed by it. I feel that I am keeping you tied to me by our deal, when I know you would much rather be anywhere else."

Geralt gave a sharp exhale. "You do, do you? How did you find out? Scrying my mind? If so than you need to relearn scrying. You are dead wrong."

She gave a little laugh. "Well that was always one of Yennefer's specialties, not mine. I've never tried to do that to you. It always seemed rather invasive and disrespectful to me."

"I agree. Hate it. She knew that and did it anyway."

"I am not so sure I want to know what is in your mind. It's probably full of monsters and swordplay!"

"Mmhm. That and a list of how to get out of wearing a doublet."

That made Keira laugh. "Luckily for you, I don't throw soirees although I have been known to attend them occasionally for lack of anything else to do. I will remember to leave you out of it."

"I'd go with you if you wanted me to," he said softly.

"In your battle gear with your swords strapped to your back?"

"In whatever you wanted me to wear. Silk, satin, velvet, no choice in the matter."

She shook her head. "But you _do_ Geralt. You _do_ have a choice if you wish or don't wish to do something. I would never force you to do anything against your will. Unless it were a life or death matter I suppose. If it meant saving you I wouldn't give you a choice!"

She laughed again, her tears forgotten. Geralt reached up slowly and brushed a last stray tear from her cheek.

"We... _you_...will figure this thing out, Keira," he said. "Until then I am not going anywhere. I make good on my promises. Might go off to make some coin, but I'll always come back. Until our business is concluded."

"Yes, our business," she echoed softly.

"You are allowed to change your mind on this too. If you figure _your_ situation out...nothing stopping you from telling me you don't need me anymore. No hard feelings Unless you chose Dandelion to father your child. Might have to check you for insanity then."

Keira laughed softly at that, and impulsively threw her arms around his neck. He was so easy to be with. Geralt squeezed her and held her tightly, his lips against her hair. She let go slightly and faced him, their lips so close she could have kissed him with barely any movement.

So she did.

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and pulled away.

Geralt sighed inwardly. She had hugged him twice in one day though and that was a start at least. Maybe Keira was warming up to him in her own way, but she had always been flirty and affectionate. Far more so than Yennefer had ever been. Yen had always maintained a cool demeanor towards him, which occasionally dropped into a fiery passion that left both of them breathless. But in between those times Geralt often found himself yearning for physical contact. He began to dislike the person he became around her. Yen was domineering and judgmental. She also lacked compassion, which became a wall between them.

Geralt looked at Keira, who was so completely different. She certainly had her eccentricities but beneath them was a person who cared, even if she showed it in odd ways. Keira's passion had always been so easy to ignite. Back when he was bound to Yennefer, Keira would often try and seduce him into her bed. His heart had ached to be with her, but the spell prevented it. While it allowed physical acts, if there were any emotions involved, the spell dampened the desire.

The only time Geralt had been able to ignore the magic was that one time at the lake. Because Yennefer was so far from him, his desire for Keira had overridden the spell. He had drowned in pleasure with her, and it was over too soon. The witcher had been left with a re-playable memory that had comforted him in days past. But he had put that on the shelf too. It became too hard to wish for someone he was sure he would never cross paths with again.

 _Sweet Keira, how do I show you I love you?_ he thought as he watched her walk back to the cabin. _I've never been any good at romance._

* * *

"Get ready to catch them Geralt!" Keira called down to him. She had climbed up the apple tree in search of some worm free specimens for Yulia's pie. It had been two weeks since they arrived. Keira had gone from a fancy noblewoman in a large city to a carefree country girl. She had shed layer after layer of her fancy dresses and now wore only her small clothes which consisted of a corset and a short skirt. She didn't even bother with her shoes anymore. She had climbed bareback on Faris and cantered around the field near the house throwing cherries at Geralt.

Her heart seemed light and unburdened, her spirit unfettered by her longings. Once she realized that there was no one to stand in judgment of her, no one that had any expectations, she changed. Keira worked diligently with Yulia, but when that good woman closed the door of the workroom for the day, there was no more talk of the experiments. She was teaching Keira to balance herself, something she would need as a mother. Yulia never behaved with "if". She treated the situation as "when".

The dust and dirt stopped bothering Keira, and she found herself looking forward to awakening to the sound of birds each morning, and the smell of freshly baked bread. She began to find her clothing cumbersome, and wore either her small clothes or a few simple dresses that Yulia lent her. She learned to bake, which made Geralt so happy. He loved eating, but cooking was a nightmare for him. In the evenings they would all sit and talk and Yulia would stitch or knit and tell stories of her childhood growing up on a farm. They asked Geralt to tell his tales and all were riveted. Some of the monsters he described even Keira had never seen. Life in the little cabin was happy.

"Just throw them," he called back. It was too late when he heard her laugh, and a slew of apples came raining down on him.

"Keira!" he bellowed. "You better come down here. Don't know which are good and which are bad now. Apples are as bruised as my head!"

She was still laughing as she descended the tree. He reached up and grabbed her when she came close enough. "Little vixen!" he said and carried her to the horse trough. "Now I'll wash the mischief out of you!"

Keira shrieked and kicked her legs, trying to get away. He quickly re-positioned her so he was cradling her in his arms. She held onto him.

"You promise not to drop apples on my head?" he asked, dangling her feet in the water.

"I could drop myself on it instead," she grinned.

"Been there, done that, it hurt."

They looked at one another. Both of them felt their hearts race and the blood in their veins rush through their bodies.

"Geralt," she whispered.

"Mmhm?"

"I...I'm ...I need to give those apples to Yulia."

He gently put her down on the soft grass. She had wanted to say something else entirely, he felt it.

"Keira, I know that's not what you wanted to say to me."

"Of course it was!"

"You can tell me anything, just like it always was."

She smiled at him as she retrieved the apples. "I know that Geralt! We've been friends for a long time and I'm very grateful for that." _I wanted to tell you I was sorry for rejecting your kiss!_ Her mind exclaimed. _But it would be foolish to needlessly complicate our arrangement over old feelings I clearly need to get over._

* * *

"You will come and see us love? When you have your child?" asked Yulia as she watched Keira and Geralt prepare to return to the city.

"I 'd rather come back and see you sooner," said the sorceress. "I'm just not sure this conception is ever going to happen."

She looked at the tiny cabin with its dust and cobwebs, the little border garden and the baskets of herbs sitting by the door. She hated to admit even to herself that she really wanted to stay longer. It was nice to have someone to bounce ideas off, someone to encourage her when things were not working out, someone who understood her deep longing. Yulia was all those things and more. She was like the mother figure Keira never had.

Her own mother had been a courtier, and her love of the finer things had most definitely rubbed off on her daughter. Keira had not known the freedom of being just a child, her mother had groomed her and trained her to romance royalty and Keira had learned those lessons very well. Spending time with Yulia had shown her a whole different relationship that was possible. Her sisters of the Lodge, while accepting, had motivations of their own, and truly bonding with one another was an obstacle, not a pleasure. The few weeks of working together that Keira had now enjoyed would forever be remembered.

"You must believe in yourself!" said Yulia. "I've seen your work, I know what you've done with the plague research. I'll be using much of what I learned from you. I hope something I showed _you_ will help."

Keira hugged Yulia. "Will you come to see me, at my home Yulia? I...I live alone with my servants and...sometimes ...it would be nice to...just please come, tell me you will? Soon?"

Yulia took Keira's face in her hands and gave her a kiss on the forehead. She saw the sadness in the younger woman's eyes. "It's hard for me to leave my people, they need me child. If your home is so large perhaps there is room for a friend there?" She glanced over at Geralt. "I 'll do my very best to get away but you must feel free to come to me as well, alright?"

Yulia walked to Geralt and patted his cheek. "Despite what the world may think of you witchers, I see a kindness in you, Geralt of Rivia. We have enjoyed meeting you. As I said to Keira, you are always welcome here."

He bowed. "I thank the both of you for your hospitality. I learned much. Very grateful for all Amand has taught me. Give him my best."

Yulia smiled and nodded. "Amand does not like saying farewell. He is off in the orchard somewhere I'm sure, waiting until all of this is over. He truly loves teaching his craft and wishes more people were like you, interested in learning all they can."

Roach and Faris moved off at a trot as the early morning birds began to herald in the new day.

* * *

Keira had thought over Yulia's words on the trip home. She was quiet, and Geralt rode beside her lost in his own thoughts. As the city came into view, she turned to him.

"Geralt, I was thinking," she began. He looked at her, waiting.

"You have said the Inn is rather small. My home is quite the opposite, would you perhaps like to stay with me?"

"Yes, I would," he responded.

He felt encouraged by the smile on her face as they entered the city gates and rode back to the mansion.

 


	10. Compromises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Geralt and Keira make changes to their wardrobe to please the other, each wanting the same thing but neither of them able to say it.

* * *

Roach was happy to have a roll in the paddock and dig into a bale of hay. He didn't seem to notice that his freedom had been curtailed. Keira brushed Faris to Geralt's surprise, she had never been one to appreciate any animal hair, dust or dirt. Her time with Yulia seemed to have changed something in her and he liked it. While he realized that Keira would always be Keira, and could never stray too far from who she truly was, the fact that she had been able to relax and stop worrying had been good for her and that alone made the entire trip worth it.

He sat on a plush chair and watched her, drink in hand, his legs stretched out before him. _I could get used to this,_ he thought _. Being with her, loving her. Not all bad, this city thing_.

Keira looked over at him. "What are you thinking about, Geralt?"

"That I never would have imagined Keira Metz grooming a horse."

She laughed and patted Faris. "Yulia told me that this feels good for them. Like when I brush my hair."

He smirked. "I can think of something that makes _me_ feel good too!"

She threw a brush at him. "Dog!" she cried.

He ducked out of the way, then looked at her with his most innocent expression. "What? Was thinking brushing _my_ hair too..."

She rolled her eyes and continued with Faris' tail.

"You know," Geralt said. "Was a time you wouldn't have hesitated to brush me. Remember that day in the underbrush? The burdocks? Yen wouldn't come near me. You were the one got them out."

"That was long ago, Geralt," she said quietly. She remembered that day well. He had gone off to look for something, and come back covered in offal, burdocks matted in his hair. Yennefer had shown complete disgust and refused to help him. Geralt had been sure that the only way to get them out was to shave his entire head but Keira had been mortified. She sat with a comb and an uncomfortable witcher for an hour, carefully removing the burdocks and the mats, then washed his hair for him. He had been grateful and brought her a bouquet of roses. She had been putting them in a vase of water, watching him embrace and kiss Yennefer. It was a pain she would rather have not remembered.

Geralt remembered that day as well, a contract looking for a monster that only came out at night. The beast had gone to ground and the witcher had crawled through the burdocks to get to the lair entrance. It was vile to say the least. After slaying it he had to crawl back through that same way, making everything worse. Yennefer had been revolted at the sight and smell of him, and he had bathed but couldn't get the burdocks out. He asked her to help him and she refused, so he had gone around looking for a straight razor.

Keira had seen him and promised that she could get them out if he would be patient and sit still long enough. She didn't seem offended in the slightest. He had sat for an hour while she gently worked on him. He remembered how nice she smelled, and how his body had reacted to her nearness when her breasts brushed against his arm. He entertained himself with scenarios, all of which ended up with the two of them making love at the end of it. She had always been so caring towards him, playful, gentle Keira. He had often wished that Yen had those same attributes and could show him some affection from time to time that didn't lead to a night of passion. It had been nice, sitting there with Keira's hands on his head. He had considered crawling through the burdocks again for more of the same.

"Yes it was," he responded to her. "Good times."

"Ugh not for me, it wasn't!" Keira exclaimed, remembering only how she had felt seeing the two of them.

Geralt sighed and took another swig of the ale.

"Want to go for a ride?" she asked.

"Where to?"

"Through the meadow to the shore path."

"Want to ride on Roach with me?"

Keira gave him an odd look. "As in sit behind you like a commoner? I don't think so, Geralt!"

"I can sit behind _you_ if you want," he said.

"That isn't any different," she returned. "Never mind. I have work to do in the lab. High time that I got going on it again, so we can progress."

She turned Faris loose in the paddock with Roach and dusted herself off. "I'm dirty and smell of horse," she said. "I'm going to take a bath first. Dinner will be at the usual time Geralt. I shall see you then."

Her tone was dismissive and he simply nodded and continued to sit there for a long time, watching the horses.

* * *

Keira closed the door of the bathroom and leaned against it, eyes closed. The idea of sitting behind him, her arms around him, feeling his body touching hers made her heart race. He didn't seem to understand that these little games they played, this time together was torturing her. She wanted nothing more than to ride with him that way. Tears of frustration slid from her eyes.

Keira was keeping something from Geralt, something that was eating at her. She believed that something Yulia had taught her had fixed the instability of the decoction. It was still to be tested on the spotted rats, but she was sure that she could now cure her own, and Geralt's infertility, although his decoction was time sensitive and temporary, and Yulia believed it would not work more than once. But it wouldn't kill him.

Keira got into the bath and lay her head back, breathing in the fragrant water, enjoying the soothing feel of the warmth all around her. She didn't want to finish the deal and watch Geralt ride out of her life again. Was there a potion that could cure wanderlust? There was always a Djinn...she laughed out loud at that idea. The same thing that had unhappily bound Geralt to Yennefer would never be used to bind him to her. She wanted to come by his love honestly, she wanted him to want her in every way not just one. Keira brooked no illusions that a relationship that was only strong in the bedroom would only last so long. She wanted Geralt forever, but how could she make him see that? If she showered him with gifts and affection he would take her to his bed. As incredible a lover as he was, that isn't what she wanted from him.

 _What do I do?_ she asked herself. _How can I win his heart, not just his body?_

* * *

Geralt twitched and scratched at himself in discomfort. He hated wearing a doublet. Hated them with every fibre of his being. They were so ill fitting and uncomfortable he would have rather submitted himself to a torture chamber. He looked at himself in the mirror. The dark blue velvet looked so regal and was perfectly tailored to fit him exactly. He wanted to impress Keira at dinner, show her that he was willing to submit to such terrible outfits to make her happy, to fit into her world.

* * *

Keira placed the wreath of tiny flowers on her head and wove some of her hair through it. She had picked out the simplest dress she had, in a soft pale green that brought out her eyes, and fell to just above her knees. It had floral embroidery around the neckline and the bottom edge, was sleeveless but had a soft shimmery capelet that went with it. There was only her small clothes beneath it, no multitude of layers to fill it out.

She felt naked and inappropriate, but knew that Geralt loathed the fancy outfits of the nobility. He seemed to enjoy it when she wore simple things, like the dress she had once had when they had met in Midcopse. He had complimented her on it a few times. She looked at herself in the mirror. This dress was far less brightly colored than that one, but was elegant and soft. She hoped he would like it. Keira wanted Geralt to know that she had another side to her as well. As much as she loved the finer things in life, it didn't bother her to dress down if she had to, and she would gladly do it if it pleased him. Sometimes anyway. This dress didn't have the plunging neckline her others did. She wanted him to see _her_ , not just her body.

* * *

Keira was already seated at the dining table when Davram announced Geralt. As he walked in as proud as could be despite his discomfort, her mouth fell open. She stood up and walked silently to him on her bare feet, not having bothered to put any shoes on.

"Geralt? What on earth..?"

He crossed one foot over the other and spun around with a flourish, the way Dandelion had once taught him to.

"Like it? Had it made. Figured you were tired of seeing me looking like a peasant."

She blinked, speechless. She knew how he hated doublets and noble attire.

She looked down at her feet, then raised her hands above her head and did the same spin he had just done. "And I dressed like this because I figured you were tired of my fashionable dresses!"

She started laughing then. "You look so very dashing, Geralt, but so ridiculous at the same time! You have the look of a man who wants nothing more than to flay off his skin!"

Geralt took in the sight of her and his heart skipped a beat, or several. To him she looked beyond beautiful.

He held out his hand to her, and hoped she wouldn't react adversely. She was still smiling when she placed her hand in his, and he led her to her chair again before sitting down.

"You look beautiful, Keira," he said. "Want to say more, but not too good at that."

Suddenly he remembered Dandelion's suggestion of writing her a poem or a sonnet.

"With hair the color of winter wheat, and eyes like a soft green meadow mist, the softest touch she gives to me, the sweetest lips I've ever kissed!"

Keira looked at him with wide eyes. "Did Dandelion write that one?" she asked.

Geralt shook his head. "No. I just did."

"You made it up, just now?"

"Yes."

She smiled and it lit up her whole face. "Do I truly have the sweetest lips you ever kissed?"

"Yes," he answered awkwardly. "From what I remember, of that night..."

The servants came in than, carrying trays of food. As she picked up her fork to prepare digging into it, she looked into Geralt's eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Very much

 


	11. Geralt's Scheme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt roams the mansion and discovers a special room. Geralt and Keira head off to Novigrad to visit Dandelion when Geralt comes up with a plan to keep him and Keira together longer.

* * *

In the morning, Davram met Geralt as he wandered into the dining room. Keira was nowhere to be found, and he realized he would have to eat alone. The servant told him that she had gone into the city for a while but that he was to make himself at home. There were no restrictions on his movements. Geralt was impressed by that. He had grown used to being told where he could and couldn't go and liked the freedom. It reinforced how wonderful he thought Keira was.

He told Davram that the dining room was just too opulent for a witcher to take his meal, and the steward led him to the servant's hall.

“Now the mistress might be displeased at her guest eating in such lowly quarters, but what she doesn't know cannot possibly cause her any harm, am I correct in that, master Geralt?”

Geralt had grinned slightly. “You're a good man Davram. This will suit me just fine.”

He had eaten, sitting quietly while the servants bustled around him seeing to their daily routines. They were not accustomed to seeing a witcher, and while another guest would have made them chatty and curious, the witcher made them slightly uncomfortable and they preferred to ignore him aside from the polite acknowledgments that were expected.

Geralt wandered from room to room, taking in the opulence and the finery. Keira had truly not spared any expense with her home. She could easily house 100 guests at once, but according to Davram, he was the first and only guest Keira had ever had. If Geralt had been impressed by the guest rooms, when he found her bedroom he was completely awestruck.

The bed was a massive four poster created out of an expensive looking wood. It was completely decorated with carved vines and flowers, and there were tiny strands of crystals wrapped around each post, which could be lit up by magic The bedding was silk and satin in pale blues and creams, the comforter embroidered with pearls and silver thread. A multitude of pillows lay atop it.

There were many pieces of furniture, including a very lavish dressing table, and when he opened the closet he thought he had found another room. Keira had more dresses and shoes than he knew existed in one person's life. There were also hats, cloaks and gloves galore.

He sat on one of her settees and looked around the walls. He saw the painting she had told him about, the one of him. He was portrayed wearing a black and white doublet, standing in front of a fountain, a very slight smile on his face. The likeness was incredible. She had an extraordinary memory and was able to convey that to the artist. A warmth crept through Geralt as he realized that she thought enough of him to have paid for such a thing. There were other portraits, one of his brothers Lambert and Eskel and their old friend Vesemir, a few portraits of her sisters from the Lodge, some scenes with Keira herself and others he didn't recognize. But the largest of them was the one of him. He supposed it was because they had been fairly close for awhile.

He turned and saw a round table, laid out with a wine service and a bowl of fruit. There were two chalices of silver and he recognized them immediately. It was the very same ones that they had used on that magical night, where she had changed two mice into horses, altered their clothing, and set out a wonderful dinner in the woods. It was the night that they had made love for the first and only time. The one time that Geralt had ignored the pull of the spell upon him and gave himself to the one woman he believed he could honestly and truly love. The one woman who saw him as nothing more than a friend. He had wanted to read so much more into it, but when she had put that sleep spell on him and run off to steal Alexander's notes from the Tower, he realized he had been a fool.

He got up and left the room and roamed down another hallway. More guest rooms, more bathrooms, more outrageous luxury for one woman. He opened a door at the end of the hall. It was different than the rest.

It was their baby's nursery.

The crib he had bought her was set up against one wall, all the furniture a mother would need for a baby neatly placed. There were decorations on the walls, and more toys than any child needed. A rocking chair stood beside the crib, and Geralt could clearly see in his mind's eye, beautiful Keira rocking their child, perhaps feeding them. He caught himself again, thinking of it as _their_ child and not _hers_. He wondered how it would feel to see a part of him come into the world, knowing he would never be there to see them grow up. _It's a stupid deal_ , he thought. _The one and only child I will most likely ever have and we won't know each other._ He realized he could back out of it, but then that part of him would never be born, and he wanted this child. He wanted to know that he would live on in some way through them _. Getting sentimental in my old age_ , he thought. He considered asking Keira if he could be a part of the baby's life in some way. But he knew she would wall her feelings up and turn him away. She didn't even seem to want to continue their friendship after things were said and done.

 _I can't let that happen_ , he thought, strengthening his resolve _. I still have time to try and get through to her. She liked the poem. Keira has a romantic side. Need to start there_.

* * *

The sorceress came back at lunchtime, washed up and met Geralt in the dining room. As Davram served the meal, she asked him what he had been doing all morning. He told her he wandered around the grounds and the house, nothing exciting.

"Geralt," she said. "Are you planning on visiting Dandelion in Novigrad again soon?"

"Wasn't planning to. You want to go?"

"Yes, I do. There is a merchant in the city there that I wish to see, and it's an awful long way to go alone. We could visit with him at the same time."

Geralt nodded and ate his meal in silence. He knew she could easily portal herself there. Even Novigrad was now safe as per the Empress' decree. But Keira knew he loathed portals and didn't try and force him to use it with her. He appreciated the gesture. He would follow her anywhere.

* * *

Geralt planned their route in detail. As much as he would have been fine camping along the way, he knew that Keira would hate it. So their travel day was built around the best Inns he could find, ones with indoor plumbing and all the creature comforts she wanted. Some of them weren't as fine as he had hoped, but she didn't utter a single complaint. On reaching The Chameleon, Dandelion was delighted to see them both.

"Keira!" he exclaimed. "You are just as beautiful as old Geralt described you!"

"He talked about me?" she asked.

"Oh non-stop! It was Keira this, and Keira that!"

Geralt growled and glowered at him and Dandelion laughed awkwardly than said. "You know him, he always talks about all the ladies! He's a ladies' man! Very popular, our Geralt!"

"Dandelion!" rumbled Geralt. "Stop talking. Now."

He had seen how Keira's expression had fallen with that last comment and he wanted to throttle his friend. The man didn't have the sense the gods gave a goat. How Priscilla had fallen in love with him he would never understand.

That good woman showed up later in the day to begin preparing for the evening show. Dandelion pulled her aside and asked her not to sing the song about Geralt and Yennefer. It was a popular ballad, but as he explained to her, that relationship was over, and the witcher had a new lady in his life. He failed to mention that Keira was not aware of this little fact. Priscilla had introduced herself to the sorceress with much enthusiasm.

"Geralt is such a wonderful man! You are truly lucky to have him. You will be so happy. I would not be alive if not for him!"

Keira, wide eyed, had quickly told Priscilla that she and Geralt were friends, nothing more. Puzzled, the singer looked at Dandelion, wondering why he had put her in such an awkward situation. The bard had shrugged sheepishly and sidled away.

Geralt sat at the bar and drank. He started with wine, then moved to mead, then to ale. Several women came up to him and propositioned him, but tipsy though he was, the witcher sent them on their way. Keira had no interest in anything past a glass or two of wine. She watched and listened to the entertainment, then excused herself to her room. The rowdiness of the crowd bothered her, and she wished for some solitude.

She had fallen asleep within a few minutes of crawling into bed. The candle had burned down and it was pitch black when she heard a rapping at her door.

"What is it?" she called out. "Can it wait until morning?"

"Keira," said Geralt, his words slightly slurred. "I needa talk to you."

She sighed heavily. "You are inebriated Geralt, and you are not coming in here."

"Ohhh kay," he drawled. "I'm gonna go out in the morning. Meet someone. Be back...at....sometime."

"You don't owe me an explanation of your whereabouts. Goodnight."

She rolled over and listened to him half walk, half shuffle down the hallway to his own room, bumping into the walls and quite obviously knocking things off and over.

* * *

In the morning he had indeed gone out. Keira went off to the merchant she wished to visit, did some shopping and had it packaged and arranged for delivery to her home. She stopped to eat at a little outdoor cafe, then returned to The Chameleon. Geralt and Dandelion were sitting at a table talking. They stood up as Keira approached them.

"Milady Keira!" said Dandelion. "How did you pass your night? Was the room to your liking?"

"It was fine, Dandelion, thank you. I had a restful sleep. How was your night Geralt?" she asked.

"I have a headache," he said.

"I'm not surprised, considering you drank the bar dry last night. Are we to return home today?"

Geralt shook his head. "Came across something I may want to check out. Got an old friend who has a problem, needs my help. Was hoping you would come along, Keira."

"It would depend on what his problem is," she said. It actually didn't matter a fig nor a feather to her what the situation was. If it meant spending more time with Geralt than she was not going to turn it down, but she at least had to feign curiosity. She could always duck out of any battles.

"It's an island off an Skellige. Lighthouse there has been dark for weeks. Ships running to ground, lighthouse keeper hasn't been seen in awhile, villagers say it's haunted."

Keira's eyes widened. "You think there might be a ghost?"

"Could very well be. Would be glad to have your help. Will you come? Long journey like that it's nice to have company."

"Alright," responded Keira. "I will need to purchase some appropriate travel wear for the colder climates. When do we leave?"

Geralt suppressed a smile and tried to remain serious. "In the morning. Bright and early."

There was no old friend who needed his help. He had been thinking of something else he and Keira could do together when he overheard a conversation between two men. They were sailors, and their captain had refused to sail to that area on account of the stories coming out of there. It had been the perfect solution. It was a lot of travel, they would be together every day, and it would give Keira a chance to overcome her fear and flex her battle muscles. Geralt knew he could protect her if need be. If it was indeed a type of ghost, the monster would be a tough fight, but with Keira's power it would go far better. He had not been sure she would come with him. Her focus was still on her experiments, but perhaps she had needed more of a break after all.

Dandelion thought Geralt was crazy to go through all that just to spend time with a woman. He suggested more poetry and sonnets, candlelit dinners and lavish gifts. Things that didn't involve potential death and destruction. He didn't understand that his friend wanted more than just a fling. This time it was for real, and Geralt wanted something that would last. The bard suggested he sing to her.

"Dandelion," Geralt had said. "No way am I going to sing to her. Don't want to attract any monsters."

* * *

Keira was grateful that Geralt had asked her along. She was excited to be travelling with him and seeing some new places. She loved her home, but she also wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. There were no politics in her city for her to sink her teeth into, and regardless she was no longer interested in such things. Keira worried that her mind was growing dull. A fresh adventure could do just the trick. She purchased some warmer clothing, and a cloak for Geralt.

He had lifted the lid off the box with a look of amusement on his face, wondering what outrageous new fashion she was foisting on him, but once he saw her gift that look turned to one of gratitude. The cloak was leather, edged with fur, with cut-outs for the straps that held his swords on his back. It was thick and would provide him with warmth on the voyage and in the colder northern lands. It was generous and kind of Keira to think of him and he told her so. She had just smiled and walked away. _This woman,_ he thought as he watched her, _is incredible._

That evening they'd enjoyed a lovely meal but excused themselves shortly thereafter to rest for the journey. Geralt saw Keira to her room, then meandered down the hall towards his own. He wasn't tired, but the noise and chaos of The Chameleon in the evenings was more than he wanted two nights in a row.

As he settled into his bed, he thought about the journey to come, and wondered if he could manage to convince Keira that he was a changed man, a man ready to commit to one woman.

 


	12. Ocean Voyage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keira doesn't take to shipboard travel and Geralt's suggestions to make it easier don't exactly go over too well.

* * *

The first part of the journey had involved travel by ship. Keira had cast a spell on herself to stop the overwhelming nausea that hit her when they reached open water. The pitching and rolling of the ship was too much for her and she decided that she was not going to spend her time hanging over the railing.

Geralt had no such difficulties with water travel. He could sit on deck during the day and sleep just fine at night. It was not a luxurious vessel, and the accommodations were crude. Keira fell out of the bed twice, once landing on Geralt who slept on the floor beside her. He said he preferred the floor, although there were other beds scattered around.

"Why don't you sleep in the hammock," he suggested.

"In the what?" she asked rubbing her sore hip. "You are not as soft a landing as I remember, Geralt."

"Seems to be a trend in our relationship," he said. "You falling on me." He pointed at the hammock suspended in the corner.

"Get in that and you won't fall."

The look she gave him would have frozen the sun. "You expect me to lie down in that...that... _thing?_ It's a net! It's for catching a whale not for sleeping in!"

Geralt scooped her up in his arms and deposited her in the hammock. "Caught myself a small whale," he said with a slight grin.

Keira let out an indignant yelp and lashed out to smack him. "I'm not a whale!" she cried. But when she did so, it put her off balance and the hammock tipped over, spilling her onto the ground again. Geralt couldn't help himself, he burst out laughing. It was a rare thing for Geralt of Rivia to ever laugh, and he seemed to do it most when around Keira.

She got to her feet and dusted herself off. With her hands on her hips and a scowl on her usually benign face she bellowed at him. "Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarcie, you are a DOG!"

She turned and stomped out of the sleeping quarters.

Geralt was holding his sides, he was laughing so hard. Even when angered and indignant, Keira Metz was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he fell even deeper in love with her than he thought possible. Chuckling, he flipped the hammock back and put the pillow and blanket back up. Then he sat down on the bed she had vacated. "Once there was a dog who fell in love with a whale, and that was a magical fantastical tale!"

 _I've been hanging around Dandelion too long_ , he thought.

Keira wrapped her cloak around herself and curled up on a deck chair. It was hard and uncomfortable but in no way was she going to go back down to that dirty, dusty and stuffy sleeping area. It smelled of unwashed bodies and stale air, and most likely there would be bedbugs and the fates knew what else waiting to assault her. She could not use glamor spells among strangers, she could never be sure who was hostile towards sorceresses and witchers. How could Geralt have called her a whale? She most certainly wasn't overweight in any way! Men could be such dogs! She huffed angrily and did her best to drift off to sleep.

The morning sun and the shouts of the sailors at their morning chores woke her. She opened her eyes slowly to see Geralt leaning on the railing, watching her.

"Still mad?" he asked.

"I might be convinced not to be if you apologize!"

"I didn't make you fall out of the hammock," he said.

"For calling me a whale!" she exclaimed.

"You are not a whale, Keira," he sighed.

She figured that was as close to an apology as she would get. " _You_ are still a dog, Geralt," she sniffed.

He held out his hand. "Hungry?"

She looked up at him for a few moments then let him help her out of the chair. Her body ached in places she never knew _could_ ache. All of this misery just to be with him _. I question my sanity over loving you,_ she thought as she stiffly walked to the galley beside him.

Keira had expected the food to be as terrible as everything else but she was pleasantly surprised. She was also rather surprised that Geralt did his best to make their table respectable for her. He had laid out a cloth, napkins, cutlery and plates, although they were chipped and cracked and nothing matched. He had even managed to find two silver colored goblets, which were a great deal better then the wooden ones. He poured them some water and served her the food.

"My servants are better at it," she remarked, trying not to smile.

"They get paid," responded Geralt.

She began working on her meal, and little by little her annoyance faded. Presently she looked up and smiled at him. "Thank you, Geralt. For trying to make this journey pleasant for me. You must have realized I can't use glamors here for obvious reasons."

She noticed the compliment changed something in his expression and she felt a warm flush go through her. Their hands rested close together on the table and she wanted to lay hers over his. Instead she placed it in her lap and continued eating.

He sat back and watched her. "Still feeling sick?"

"I'm not going to release the stabilizing spell on me to find out. Very unpleasant situation."

"Want to walk on the deck with me than?" he asked.

"You aren't going to do anything evil to me are you? This whole ship thing is torture."

He stood up and offered her his arm. "You can hang onto me."

Keira looked up at him. His expression was unreadable, as it usually was. She stood and took his arm and they walked up onto the deck. The sea was quiet, the sun was out and the seabirds were circling looking for fish. Some of the crew was busying themselves by swabbing the deck, preparing to cast a few nets, or just sitting about smoking and conversing.

"We will need to travel on horseback to the village in question," said Geralt. "Ships can't get close to the island."

"I wish we could have brought Faris and Roach."

"Yes. Got mice? You can always conjure up some horses."

Keira shook her head. "No, it is best I don't. The spells are temporary, and we have no idea if the area is hostile towards magic users. Besides I don't travel with mice in my packs. Magic's too risky, Geralt. We will have to purchase horses or go on foot. I truly hope you have planned out this little adventure of ours."

He looked at her sheepishly. "Uh...about that..." he began.

She glowered at him. "What do you mean _about that?_ You have planned proper stops on the way have you not?"

"Sure we'll find something. Don't worry."

"Geralt you know I hate the outdoors! All that dirt and bugs!"

"You enjoyed being at Yulia and Amand's. Told me so."

"I got used to Yulia's but that was a cabin and it was different! It was safe!"

Geralt gave her a pained look. "You don't trust me to keep you safe? You have some pretty nasty power yourself. Threw five Wild Huntsmen into the air like leaves."

"You know I am not cut out for battle!" she cried. "We had this talk! I should truly have known better than to trust you. A dog just can't be trusted!"

He smirked. "Sure they can. Ever seen Emhyr's hounds?"

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, Geralt. It's my own fault for agreeing to come along without asking all the right questions."

"I'm glad you came. Out there you can use your glamor if you want to."

She sighed and found a deck chair to curl up in. Geralt disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a bottle of some sort of alcohol. He sat down beside her and offered her the bottle. She shook her head with a scowl. Getting to his feet, he disappeared again, and came back with a glass. He poured some into it and gave it to her.

Keira laughed and took it. He was getting the hang of it.

 


	13. Skellige

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much to Keira's chagrin, Geralt finds them a ramshackle cabin to rest in for the night as they continue their travels.

* * *

They landed at a small dock in Skellige in the evening 5 days after leaving Novigrad, and the Captain suggested they stay on board until morning. He wasn't too optimistic about finding any lodgings nearby. Keira slept in a deck chair as she had been doing the entire voyage. She woke up sometime at night, startled by a movement beside her. It was Geralt. Had he slept at her side the entire trip? She had never awoken once she fell asleep to know for sure.

"Geralt?" she whispered. He didn't move.

"Geralt!" she tried again, this time pushing on him slightly. He still didn't awaken. She watched the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest for a few minutes than stroked his hair gently.

"I love you," she whispered softly. "I wish I had the courage to tell you that when you are awake."

He inhaled deeply and she thought he might have heard her, but he just kept on sleeping. She reset her blanket and went back to sleep.

* * *

"I need a bath," Keira lamented. "Wash basins and cloths don't do the job at all properly. How can you witchers tolerate living like wild animals? Both you and Lambert don't seem to mind being dirty all the time."

Keira had bought them two horses, thick bodied and well furred to protect against the cold. They were smaller than Roach and Faris, and Geralt's long legs hung down past the animal's belly. They were slow and plodding creatures but comfortable to sit. Keira had bought clothing suitable for what she imagined northern climes were like, but she hadn't gotten it quite right. As they walked along, she shivered beneath her woolen cloak, and tried to keep her mind off it.

"Never had a problem with that" said Geralt. "No choice but to rough it sometimes."

"Ugh," responded Keira. "When we were traveling together, Lambert only sought a civilized place to sleep when he wanted to get into the alcohol."

Geralt looked over at her. The hood of her cloak was over her face so he couldn't see it, but a few strands of her soft, pale hair curved around the edges. His witcher's senses told him she was cold and uncomfortable. They needed to find a place to warm up and rest before night came.

"Drink much did he?"

"Incessantly. It was too bad, as he was amusing to talk to. He has such a terrible chip on his shoulder and I felt he drank to alleviate some sort of mental discomfort, but beneath all that...Lambert is a good man. There's kindness in him."

Geralt smirked. "Are we talking about the same Lambert? Maybe you went off with Eskel instead!"

"Eskel is a wonderfully sweet man. Have you had any contact with him at all since Kaer Morhen?"

"Not a word."

"That's unfortunate," said Keira after which they rode in silence for awhile.

Presently Geralt turned his pony up onto an embankment. Keira followed him, leaning over her mount's neck to avoid the branches they rode beneath. There was no path and the terrain was uneven.

"Geralt! Where on earth are we going? Do you know this area at all?"

She didn't even dare to imagine that they would be staying in a warm, comfortable Inn for the night. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, and it was getting even colder. _Why did I bother coming? Traveling with a witcher was never going to be an exercise in comfort,_ she told herself.

They came to a tiny ramshackle cabin. Geralt dismounted and walked around it. Keira sat on her pony silently. He came back around and pushed on the door. When it didn't give, he kicked it in and disappeared inside, reappearing after a few minutes.

"You can go inside, I'll tie up the horses. Threw a few bits of wood in the fireplace, toss some magic to light it up," he instructed. She did as he asked and stood by the resulting fire, holding her cloak open to allow the warmth to collect inside it. She was hungry and tired and still cold.

Geralt came in carrying the packs off the horses. Keira rummaged through hers and found a small pouch containing some tea bags.

"Have we got a kettle in this mess somewhere? And some water?" she asked hopefully. She fully expected him to respond in the negative but he surprised her.

"Mmhm. Brought a small one. Knew you would want it. There's a stream nearby. Will you be ok here while I go for the water? Horses need it too."

Keira nodded, although she didn't want him to leave her alone. She was far from helpless, but she hated to use her magic for destruction and battle.

It took awhile, but he watered the horses and put the kettle over the fire. Keira looked around the one room cabin. Three broken chairs lay piled in a corner. She pointed at them and spoke a few magical words. They were transformed into plushy armchairs, similar to the ones she had at home. With another word she teleported them before the fire. Then she transmogrified a strip of cloth into a rug, a large cushy sheepskin. An old crate became a table between the armchairs and two broken cups were made whole again.

Geralt watched with a smile. Keira took such delight in her magic, creating such wonderful and pleasing things. Triss and Yennefer had only used their magic aggressively for the most part, and it was quite refreshing to see it used for pleasure.

"You're very good at this," he said.

"Well, you remember the mice and the outfits? This is the same situation. The magic is temporary and will not last. When the sun begins to rise, the magic will be dispelled. But it's ours for the evening."

She smiled and sat down, the warmth from the fire now filling the room. She was able to remove her boots and her cloak, and the outermost layer of her clothing. The sheepskin felt good beneath her feet.

They drank their tea, ate the snacks Geralt had brought and warmed up.

"See?" he asked. "It isn't that terrible, the rustic life."

She looked at him wryly. "Speak for yourself."

Geralt sank down onto the sheepskin, his back against the chair, his arms folded across his stomach. "I like this," he said.

Keira slid off her chair and sat beside him, resting on one arm, the other conjuring a stick to poke at the fire. Then she put it down, held out her hand and a stream of fire flowed from it, transforming into odd humanoid shapes that began to cavort and play in the flames. She loved the little fire people, something she had learned to do very early on in her magical training.

"That's amazing, Keira," said Geralt, smiling. Her heart melted at the sight of him. The horrors and heartaches he had suffered in his near century of life had made it difficult for him to smile and laugh. She had seen more sadness in his eyes than joy, and she desperately wanted to change that.

Lively and curious, her fire people began to dance and play on Geralt's legs and up his arms. One crawled up his hair and danced on his head.  He held his palm up and watched two of them closely.

"Are they alive, these little guys?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered. "I draw them from the plane of fire. They are tiny benign spirits. They cannot be summoned to battle!"

"Wasn't even thinking that," said Geralt.

"Of course you weren't!" she responded.

Eventually they seemed to tire, and moved into a group, sitting and gazing up at Keira. With a smile she created a tiny portal and they jumped up and vanished back to their plane of existence. Keira transformed her cloak into a large pillow and tossed it at Geralt. He put it behind his back and head.

"Yes, you're definitely good at this," he said with a content sigh.

He looked over at her as she stared into the fire. Holding out his arm, he said "come here, you."

She turned sharply to him, her eyes large. _Now I'm going to catch hell_ , he thought and braced himself for it. To his surprise, Keira crawled over to him. He gently placed his arm around her shoulder, then let it slide to her waist. She relaxed against him. _I have no self control,_ she thought to herself. _I am letting this man drag me in all over again. But I feel so helpless to stop it. I love him so much and always have!_

"Thank you," said Geralt softly. "I know this isn't fun for you, but you came with me anyway. You're a loyal friend Keira."

She smiled sadly. _I could be so much more if you could only see me that way,_ she thought.

 


	14. An Unexpected Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Keira travel on to the fishing village of Arinbjorn, and are reunited with a surprise visitor from the past!

* * *

They awoke in the morning with the fire turned to embers, Geralt lying on Keira's cloak, and Keira with her hip on the strip of cloth that had once been the beautiful sheepskin rug. She was curled up tight with her head on Geralt's stomach. As she became conscious she felt his hand on her head, stroking it gently _. I can't let this continue,_ she thought with a pang of regret. _I want to love you, but it will end badly and I don't want that pain._

"Geralt? I'm not a cat." She sat up and looked at him. His eyes were wide, and there was a softness in his expression. It made her want to kiss him, to hold him. Then it was gone, replaced by the same unreadable expression he always wore. He stretched and sat up.

"We can wash up then get back on the road. Will make the village by afternoon, settle in and find out what's going on."

She nodded and got to her feet. Keira was unused to sleeping on hard ground and her lower body ached. Luckily for her she had used Geralt as a bed for her upper half. Relayering all her clothing, and donning her cloak and hood, she prepared to face the cold again. She couldn't imagine how much worse it would have been had there been snow. It was early spring, and it had melted, but it was still far colder than it was at home, and the further north areas never thawed out.

"I had a pleasant night," said Geralt. "You kept me warm I think."

Keira laughed. "You saved me from a full body nightmare."

"I liked the fire people," he said.

"You'll see them again. They come to visit quite often."

"Can you bring any from other elemental planes?"

She nodded. "Yes but they are not as benign. Most resent being summoned and can wreak havoc. The fire people are the happiest, they just want to dance. The others seem to just want to cause trouble!"

"Strange," he said. "In all our years together I never saw Yennefer or even Triss do such a thing."

"Geralt, magical permutations can be manipulated in so many ways. Most sorceresses in training wanted to learn offensive spells. I wanted to learn how to glamor a ball gown. It's all about priorities."

He grinned at her and held her pony while she mounted up.

Keira enjoyed the ride this time, having been rested, but her stomach was empty and growling.

"We'lll have a proper meal soon," Geralt said glancing at her.

"Stop cheating with your witcher senses," she said, her hood hiding her smile, but he could hear it in her voice.

Geralt reached into one of his packs and found a stick of dried beef and an apple. “Isn't much and probably will piss you off more than anything, but here."

She took the apple gratefully. "Why would you think I'd be upset by such a kind gesture?"

"Because it might not be what you wanted," he said biting into the beef stick.

"Am I really that scary?"

"Some of you are," he responded. “You can be when you choose.”

"True. But thank you. I'm quite famished and from the looks of this landscape, relief is still a ways off."

The sun warmed up the day and Keira took off her cloak. The breeze ruffled her hair and felt nice to her. She cantered ahead, impressed that her pony even responded. She jumped a fallen tree, then turned to see where Geralt was. He was way in the distance, not having followed her as quickly.

She encouraged her pony back into a canter and jumped back over the tree, galloping back to him. She was laughing and her cheeks were pink.

"Can you jump?" she asked him. "With the pony?"

"Roach can. Don't know about this one."

"There's a fallen tree on the path!"

He shrugged. "I'll ride around it."

"Oh you can't!" she declared her eyes wide. "There's a magical barrier around it, and if you don't jump the fae folk will steal you away!"

Her eyes were sparkling and her grin was mischievous. Geralt wasn't sure if she had indeed placed a magical barrier around it, but judging from her expression, Keira just wanted to play. He shouted for his pony to move, and startled the beast which broke into a gallop. He heard Keira behind him, laughing. His pony easily leapt the tree and kept on going. She caught up to him, her eyes bright. They ran the ponies for a distance then slowed to a canter, then a trot, then back down to a walk.

" _Was_ there a magical barrier around it?" Geralt asked.

Keira shrugged. "With the fae folk, you never can tell!" Her eyes were twinkling and her smile full of joy. Geralt's heart skipped a beat as he looked at her. There hadn't been any barrier. His witcher senses had told him that. Playful Keira, making a potentially dull journey into a fun experience.

"So what's the story with your friend?" she asked him.

"Which friend?"

"The one here that told you about this situation."

"Oh that," said Geralt giving her his best innocent face. "Made that up."

She stopped her pony and stared at him. "You made it up? So all of this was for nothing? You dragged us out here for what...sightseeing? Geralt! Really!"

He shook his head. "No, there is a situation. Overheard a conversation. Wanted to make sure you would come."

She sighed heavily. "So no one knows we're coming?"

"They rarely ever do," he answered, moving into a walk again.

"You just wander from place to place looking for monsters? Taking contracts from people you don't know?"

"That about sums it up," he responded.

"Do they always pay you well?"

"Sometimes they don't pay me at all. Sometimes they give me food, lodging, women. Sometimes I don't want payment. Poor local folk have big problems but no coin."

Keira wrinkled up her nose. "They give you women? Whores?"

"Sometimes if it's a large enough place. Other times its just someone's daughter."

"So they use them as currency."

Geralt gave her a look. "Yes. Like that is a new idea to you. Don't act surprised, Keira."

"The fact that someone would use their own child that way is disturbing."

"The way of the world," he said.

She didn't say anything else but ruminated on how beastly such an existence would be. She thought of all the times _she_ had used her own body as currency, to beget the child she so badly wanted.

"Geralt?"

"Mmhm"

"I know it probably doesn't matter but...I haven't been with anyone since you and I, at the Lake."

He turned his head and looked straight at her. She met his gaze and it was open and guileless but he wasn't sure her words were true. Women were tricksters sometimes.

"You and Lambert traveled together. I know him. Can't keep his hands off women."

"It wasn't a sexual relationship with him. He was afraid of me I think. He said he avoided dangerous women."

Geralt let out a laugh. "Sounds like him all right. He did say that on many occasions. Thought I was nuts to take up with Yennefer and Triss. Say the same about you if he knew."

"Oh pishposh. I'm not dangerous."

"Yeah you are. In fact, all women are! We men live in fear all day, every day. Never know if you want to kiss us, or kill us!"

Keira grinned. "Well then I suppose it would depend on how stupid you were being at the moment!"

With a laugh she moved her pony into a canter again and they followed the path through a large field with grass that still had not begun to grow, that lay brown and crisp on the cold soil. The wind moved freer here but as they continued on, the sun seemed to disappear and they found themselves in a strange fog. The ground inclined and they stopped at the top. From what they could see, a village lay spread out below them. Keira could smell the salt water and the air was chilly enough that she needed to put her cloak back on.

"This must be Arinbjorn," said Geralt. "Lighthouse is on Eldberg Island. Can't see it from here. Fog is part of the problem."

"Do you know if these people will be hostile towards us?" she asked.

"Not if they want our help," answered Geralt. He saw the concern on her face and reached over and squeezed her shoulder gently. "I won't let anyone hurt you, Keira."

She smiled in appreciation. She could easily take care of herself, but that protective side of him warmed her heart.

They moved down the path slowly, the ponies carefully picking their way between the loose rocks and earth. Signs of village life abounded. Children ran around shouting and playing, women hung laundry out on strands of rope. Men hauled carts, led animals, or prepared cuts of meat for the smokehouse. One of the men looked up as Keira and Geralt approached.

"Aye, Witcher," he said. "You 'ere about the lighthouse problem?"

"I am," responded Geralt.

"Best speak to Jorund, son of Sigvald. 'e's yonder, in the tavern."

"Need to settle in first. Where's your Inn?"

The man pointed in the other direction. "Building with the white door. Last on the right. Ask for Miriam."

Miriam was a plump woman with sea kissed skin and a broad smile. She was warm and welcoming and immediately put the kettle on the fire. She took one look at Geralt's eyes and knew she was in some pretty impressive company. She didn't have to ask if his pretty companion with the pale hair was also magical in nature. It seemed to emanate from Keira.

"So what brings ye here?" she asked as she poured three cups of tea.

"Looking into your lighthouse problem," answered Geralt.

"Och tis a terrible tragedy what with those boats groundin' and all those deaths! I canna believe it took so many ships afore the Captains stopped comin' 'ere! And those lights on the beach, I latched me windows and doors up tight, to keep the phantoms away. Some angry spirits be loose out there!"

She bustled about setting sweetmeats and cakes on a tray. "So glad someone's come to 'elp, it is gettin' harder to survive 'ere with no supplies comin' by water. Takes a long time by land. Bless ye both."

She pulled out a large ring of keys and handed one to Keira. "We 'avna any visitors so ye can have the large room at the end of the 'all. Overlooks the sea, unless ye dinna want to see the phantoms!"

"That room will be fine," said Geralt.

They finished their tea with a bit of small talk and Keira excused herself to the room to freshen up a bit. She felt dirty and tired after their long ride and really wanted to lie down and rest, but she knew that Geralt had to talk to the man at the tavern. She wanted a meal anyway, and figured she would go along and eat while they had their talk.

The room was nicely furnished for a small fishing village, and the window did indeed overlook the water, There was a rocky bluff in the way that led down to what she could see was a narrow beach. At high tide there would be no way anyone could walk there. Dangerous rocks spiked up from the water waiting to destroy any ship that came near. A broken lighthouse in this location was definitely a death trap.

Keira washed herself as best she could, eyeing the bath barrel wistfully. She changed her dress, and went back out to where Geralt and Miriam were still talking.

"I will go with you, Geralt," she said. "Although I only have a mind to eat something then I am coming back here to rest."

"Alright," he said.

A stable hand took the horses around the back where the barn was, to settle them in. Poor animals had to be hungry: grazing on sparse grasses back at the cabin couldn't have done much for their satiety.

The fog hadn't changed as they walked down the dirt street to the Inn. Keira was shivering miserably, the dampness and cold combination was wreaking havoc with her. Geralt noticed her discomfort.

"Left my cloak with the horses," he said. "Go in, I'll get it. Order us some food."

Keira thought he was feeling the chill himself and was grateful to get out of it. A large fire burned in the hearth and the Inn was warm and comforting. It smelled of fresh bread and roast beef. A few patrons were sitting at the bar drinking, a few were seated at tables conversing or eating. Two young ladies sat at another with sketch pads, one teaching the other how to draw.

A man walked up to her and nodded. "What'll it be milady?" he asked.

"I would like two meals and two glasses of wine please," said Keira.

"Aye. Got venison stew or roast beef wi' potatoes."

"One of each, and the best wine you offer."

He raised his eyebrows but nodded, disappearing into the kitchen.

Keira stood there a moment, deciding which dark corner she and Geralt could sit at and enjoy their meal.

"Keira Metz?"

The sultry voice made Keira turn around. Her gaze locked onto violet eyes in a pale face framed by ebony black softly curling hair.

Yennefer of Vengerberg.

 


	15. What's In A Name?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keira does her best to have a civil conversation with Yennefer, Geralt not so much. Geralt tries to make Keira understand his relationship with Yennefer is in the past; they discuss Keira's family convention for naming children.

* * *

"This is the last place I would have expected to run into you!" exclaimed the dark haired sorceress.  "Is Lambert here with you? I'm sure he will be quite thrilled to see me!"

Keira felt her chest tightening up.  This trip was supposed to be about her and Geralt, not about Geralt and his former lover. "Lambert and I are no longer together.  The life of a witcher didn't suit me long term and we parted after a few months," she said coolly.

"How unfortunate," said Yennefer.  "I heard what you did with the plague research, it was benevolent that Geralt allowed you to keep those notes. Seems you did rather well for yourself."

There was a touch of envy in the words and the violet eyes were as appraising and cold as they always had been. The raven haired sorceress had a haughty air about her, she thought much of herself and insisted that the rest of the world feel the same.

"You are the first sister from the former Lodge I've seen in person in several years."

Keira was surprised by that. “I find that unusual. Ciri told me that you had a megascope installed at the palace. You mean to tell me that no one has used it to get together?”

Yennefer's gaze was distant. “No. I suppose with the Lodge disbanded there is no need for any of us to congregate. You have a home in Vizima I had heard.”

Keira nodded. “Yes in the royal quarter.”

Yennefer raised her eyebrows. “I had thought the royal quarter was all old families.”

“It is. However the family that once owned my home died of the plague.”

Yennefer blinked. “You own Reymerston Hall?”

Keira was surprised that Yennefer knew of it. She never considered that her former Lodge sister had any interest in local history, especially of a place she didn't reside in. “Indeed I do. It's now the House of Metz. I might ask how you are familiar with it.”

Yennefer once more replaced her surprised expression with her usual one of calm appraisal. The Reymerston family had been extremely wealthy, owning homes in several places both on and off the continent. They contracted the plague during a voyage and were buried at sea. Their Vizima home was the largest and most opulent in the royal quarter, but the surviving and distant relatives had no interest in the place and sold it off immediately on hearing of their inheritance. Yennefer felt a stab of envy. Keira had been nothing but a hedge witch the last she had seen her, and although she'd known about the plague cure, Yennefer had had no idea just how high in society it had propelled Keira.

“That was the only estate sold in the royal quarter in recent years. Rather ironic, you being the one to cure the very plague that killed the Reymerstons. So things didn't work out with Lambert? I'm not surprised to hear that. He's not exactly lover material. I wonder how Geralt is doing these days?”

As she asked the question, Geralt walked back inside and her eyes widened.  Keira turned around and saw that his expression was also one of surprise.  She felt her breathing quicken and her heart began to pound.  Geralt walked over to them and placed his cloak gently over Keira's shoulders, giving them a squeeze.  Yennefer blanched at the tender gesture but quickly her face became an unreadable mask once more.

"Why Geralt," she said a bit too sweetly. "You and Keira?  I would never have imagined it! And to think she never said a word about you as we were playing catch up here!"

Keira felt as though she were suffocating. Air was suddenly a waning commodity.  "Geralt and I are friends, as we always have been." To Geralt she said "I suppose you and Yennefer have some catching up to do. I've ordered us some food and wine, I'll return later on. Please give my apologies to the cook."

She took his hand and dropped some coin into it, to pay for the wine and the meals.

"It was nice to see you again Yennefer," she said and mustered up a sweet smile. Keira was sure that her insides were about to liquefy and removed herself from the situation as quickly as she could, before anyone else could say a word.

Keira held the cloak around herself tightly, not so much against the biting wind but because it smelled like Geralt.  She didn't go back to the Inn, but ran right past it.  How could she ever win out against the years that Geralt and Yennefer had together? They had so much history, spell or no spell, and those old feelings were bound to come creeping up again. Hadn't they for _her_ when she saw Geralt again after all the years apart? 

Here she was, as far from home as could be with no familiar comforts to ease her pain.  She knew she could not let Yennefer see how emotional she was, especially since she had said she and Geralt were just old friends.   _Let it all out here and now Keira_ , she told herself. _Then do what you came to do._

She knew she was being unfair towards Geralt. _She_ was the one who had made the business deal with him, _she_ was the one who refused his affections and kept him at arm's length. Keira felt cowardly for only sharing her feelings with him when he was asleep, or showing him the affection that burned inside her when he wasn't aware of it. _If he decides to run off with her, it shouldn't be a surprise_ , she told herself. _This is what Geralt does_. _You've always known it_.

Back at the tavern, Yennefer watched Keira make her exit then gave Geralt an appraising look. "These past years haven't changed you at all.  Still as handsome as ever.  I like the longer hair on you."  She touched his hair then lay her hand on the side of his face.

Geralt took her hand and moved it off.  "Those days are behind us Yennefer," he said using her full name rather than the short, familiar form she expected from him.

She laughed. "Oh Geralt, you _must_ have missed me by now! You never could resist my charms!"  She lifted her goblet to her lips and sipped her wine seductively. "We don't need a Djinn to tell us how much we love each other. We've been apart before and its always worked out."

"As I said," he responded evenly.  "Those days are past for us."

Yennefer still seemed unphased.  "So you're Keira's flavor of the month? Or should I say week?  She always did recycle her lovers rather quickly.  How long did Lambert last? A week? Maybe two?”

Geralt felt an irritation rising inside him at the slight directed towards Keira, but would not allow her the satisfaction of seeing it.  "We're not lovers, Yennefer, not that it would be any of your business if we were.  We're here to help the villagers."

He turned and walked to a table and sat down, hoping the meal would be ready soon.  A serving girl brought him a tankard of ale and he drank thirstily.  Yennefer looked at him a moment then decided to join him.

"Have you been to see Ciri yet at all?" she asked, lightly touching his hand.

"No," he said, pulling away.

"I've been with her the last few months.  She misses you terribly, Geralt."

"Miss her too.  But Ciri chose her path. Her life is not my life."

Yennefer sighed.  "At least go and see her. She _is_ our daughter. I will go with you," she added coyly.

Geralt shook his head.  "You know better than to use Ciri to get what you want. She's made her choice and I've made mine.  Don't get to dictate my life anymore."

He stood up and finished the last of his ale. He couldn't sit there a moment longer to wait for the meal.  "Take care, Yennefer. Need to find Keira."

"Keira!" snorted Yennefer.  "When she tires of you in the next day or so, I will be on the mainland, for a short time anyway. Have fun with your monsters."

Geralt stopped but did not turn around.  "You know, Yennefer," he said, his voice hard and cold.  "You could stand to learn a thing or two from Keira. I'd still choose to walk alone then be manipulated by you.  Much as I wanted to at first, I can't even consider you a friend anymore. Maybe one day when you thaw out."

With that he left the Inn, a shocked Yennefer staring after him.

He found Keira sitting on a rock overlooking the shoreline far below. The wind oddly didn't seem to affect the fog at all, affirming its magical nature. Her eyes were red, most likely from the salty wind.

"Sorry about that," said Geralt.

She turned around and gave him a small smile. "You have nothing to be sorry for. You were not aware that Yennefer was here, were you?" That thought had not even crossed her mind previously, but now that she had spoken the words aloud, she felt slightly ill again.

"You _have_ returned rather quickly. I would have thought the two of you had some...business...to take care of perhaps. I hadn't planned to see you til much later."

She looked out to sea again, trying to appear nonchalant.

Geralt crouched down beside her and looked up. "Keira," he said softly. "There's nothing between Yennefer and I. Ended years ago."

She looked down at him with a shrug. "You don't owe me an explanation, Geralt," she said. "Your life is your own. Who you choose to spend it with is your concern, not mine."

He exhaled slowly. "I asked you to come with me. Means I owe you an explanation. Let's go back to the Inn. I'll ask Miriam to send someone to fetch our meals. Should be ready by now."

He stood up and held out his hand. She ignored him a moment longer, then took it and stood.

"We can eat then have Jorund meet with us elsewhere. No interest in seeing Yennefer again. If I never do it'll be too soon."

Keira felt a weight lift from her heart as she heard those words, and followed him to the Inn.

As it turned out, they were both rather tired after enjoying the meal. They retired to their room and decided to speak to Jorund in the morning.

"You can have the bed," said Geralt, unstrapping his swords and removing his boots.

She began to remove her outer layers. "Don't be silly," answered Keira. "Look at the size of it. It isn't like the child sized beds on the ship. It's more like my own. There is room for both of us. Just remember to stay on your side and don't deblanket me."

"Alright," he answered simply, although he had no idea about the deblanketing situation.

"I'm in dire need of a bath," she declared. "Since you're not averse to being dirty you may go after me. And you _will_ bathe, Geralt. I'll not have an animal in the bed with me."

"So I shouldn't get in and warm up your side of the bed then."

She shot him a frosty look. "Absolutely not."

Darkness had fallen when they crawled into bed. Keira settled herself comfortably with several pillows while Geralt wanted only one.

"Keira," he said.

"Yes?" she answered.

"You're always calling me by my full name. Seems unfair. Do you have one? Longer name I mean."

"I do, actually," she said. "Keira Christina Roslyn Fae Metz. You would turn blue before being able to utter that in anger. Mother would stop at Christina. Father never made it past Roslyn."

Geralt was quiet for a moment. "All beautiful names, like you."

"Really, Geralt," she said, flipping over to face him. "They are all family names. Mother, and two grandmothers are represented there. I suppose if I have a daughter she would have her own first name, like...Avelina let's say...then Keira Christina and ..." she stopped.

"And what?" asked Geralt.

"What is your mother's name?" she asked very softly.

He thought for a moment, remembering what Vesemir had once told him. "Visenna."

"Avelina Keira Christina Visenna du Haute-Bellegarcie" she finished, her voice cracking at the end. She cleared her throat to hide it.

"Like that alot, " said Geralt. "What about a boy? Picked out a name for him yet?"

Keira was doing her best to repress the tears that threatened her eyes. Of course she had thought of a name for her son.

"What's your father's name?" she asked.

"Korin," he responded.

"In my family boys are named after their paternal grandfather first, then maternal, then their father. So he would be Korin Atherton Geralt du Haute-Bellegarcie."

"No name of their own?" he asked.

"Not usually no, but it isn't a rule Geralt, it's just how my family line has always done it."

"I think both are wonderful names and will suit them well."

Keira fell silent, thinking about her experiments which she didn't even want to talk about. As much as she desperately wanted to finalize the formula and test it, she was not ready to give up Geralt to the wild world just yet. She was enjoying being with him, at not having to compete with anyone else for his attention. Her heart ached with the desire for his love, a love that would turn him from a dog into a prince that would never leave her. _But I can't change him,_ she thought sadly _. He is who he is and that's all there is to it._

 


	16. Here There Be Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moments of affection between them leaves Keira wary and Geralt puzzled. Jorund discusses what he saw on Eldberg, and the witcher and the sorceress head out to see for themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few sections tell the story of "The Phantom of Eldberg" quest found in the game! Oh how I hated fighting wraiths!

* * *

When morning came, Keira found herself most definitely deblanketed, with a sliver of it across Geralt's legs, the rest pooled on the floor. Her head was on his chest and his arm was around her shoulders. Her small clothes were twisted and uncomfortable but she didn't want to move.

Geralt regained consciousness, breathing the scent of Keira's hair. He became aware he was holding her and wondered how that had come to pass. He felt the blanket across his legs but nowhere else. They were on a complete diagonal. He brought the other arm over and squeezed her, giving her a kiss on her head. As he saw it, it would go one of three ways. She would awake and embrace him back, she would extract herself immediately without a word or perhaps the customary _dog_ remark, or she would simply kill him where he lay in which case it would be a good death.

"Geralt," mumbled a sleepy Keira. "Too tight, can't breathe!"

Surprised, he released his hold and she relaxed. She was curled up with her hands between her knees.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

"Mmm," was all she said, but didn't move. To kill him or otherwise.

Geralt wanted to stroke her skin but decided that not moving was a better plan. After a few minutes Keira sat up, stifled a yawn and looked down at him. "You're comfortable to sleep on. I could get used to it. Then you'd be in trouble."

He smiled and her expression softened. He raised his hand and pulled the strap of her top back up onto her shoulder from where it had slid down.

"Some trouble is worth getting into," he said. He watched her closely trying to gauge her mood. She didn't seem averse to his show of affection. He was encouraged by it and opened up his arms.

"You can lie back down and go to sleep if you like," he suggested. "Still early."

Keira softly traced one of his scars on his side. "We have work to do don't we? The sooner it gets done the sooner we can get out of here."

"Not enjoying it?" he asked.

"I might have if not for yesterday. Seeing Yennefer...just brought me memories I would as soon forget."

"Sorry for that. Know the two of you have always been at odds. Never saw eye to eye. Makes things difficult. She's gone to the mainland. Won't run into her again."

"Did she try and make you go with her?" asked Keira.

"Mmhm. Used Ciri as an excuse to drag me along."

"And you refused?"

"Keira, I told you there is nothing between us but history, and an unhappy one at that."

Keira traced a finger down his nose. "You always deserved better than her," she said.

He said nothing, but just watched her with admiration. Presently she crawled off the bed and headed for the bathroom. With a deep sign Geralt also got up and got dressed.

He was encouraged. Keira had not rebuffed his affections at all since they had come to an Skellige. Was she coming around to the idea that he cared for her and was willing to give her more? He took extra time shaving, and making sure his hair was neat and tidy. He cleaned his armor and polished his swords and was ready by the time Keira emerged from the bath barrel.

She was dressed in layers but instead of a skirt she had on breeches with an overcoat that was made of fine velvet and trimmed with lace, which dropped down long in the back but was cropped to her waist at the front. Her hair was held back at the sides as it was when they had first met. Color wise she was in shades of brown and cream with a pale blue blouse that showed through at the top. He caught himself holding his breath.

"Geralt, what is it? That's the strangest look on your face."

"If you find it strange then you haven't had many admirers," he said.

"That's preposterous!" she responded.

He held out his arms to her, fully expecting her to walk into his embrace.

"What," she asked him quizzically.

He shook his head and shrugged. "Just adjusting my sleeves, stretching my muscles."

"Oh," said Keira. Had he been asking her to embrace him? The closeness they had shared that morning had warmed her heart, but she cautiously backed into her safety zone. It was getting harder to do that, the love she felt for Geralt was taking over all of her senses. She had been here before, loving him, being encouraged by his tender gestures and compliments. And every time she had returned the feeling he had become distracted and run off. How much of that could be blamed on the Djinn's spell? How much of it was simply who Geralt was? Keira was confused and afraid. It was easier just to keep him at bay. Easier said than done, however.

"Are you ready?" she asked. "Shall we go to the tavern and speak with Jorund?"

* * *

The tavern was fairly quiet. There was only one man sitting at the bar. Keira lowered her hood and removed her gloves but did not take off her cloak.

Two men came from the back and eyed Geralt. The largest of the two approached him.

"Look what the sea hurled ashore!" he barked, an edge to his voice. "What clan are you from?"

"No clan. I'm from the Continent," responded Geralt in his quiet, even voice.

"Skellige warriors alone drink in this tavern," said the second man.

"Why are you here then? Don't look like warriors to me. More like shepherds," responded Geralt.

"Every Skelliger's a warrior!" exclaimed the second man. "Even those born in a sheep shack!"

Keira saw Geralt clench and unclench his fists a few times. _Oh wonderful,_ she thought. _Trouble already._

"But we don't expect you to understand," said the first man. "Every man's a thrall on the Continent, cringin' 'afore his master like a mongrel whinin' for scraps 'neath the table."

Another man slowly walked over, a tall, burly fellow with a shaved head save for a thick patch at the top. He was older and looked the other two over with disdain.

"Whosoever denies shelter to a traveler disgraces himself and brings shame on his clan. Yer das teach you nothin'?"

"Don't you talk to me about me da, Jorund," said the first man. "Or I'll tuck you in 'neath a barrow!"

"And you remember this, stranger," said the second man. "This here's not Kaer Trolde and we's not an Craite. Guests are not welcome."

They turned and ambled off out the door. Keira breathed a sigh of relief, and Geralt turned to the big man who was obviously Jorund.

"You don't mind the occasional traveler?" he asked.

"I mind fools, no matter where they're from," he responded, his voice deep and resonant.

"Geralt of Rivia. Witcher," said Geralt. He indicated Keira who stepped forward. "My companion, Keira Metz."

The big Skelliger nodded to them both. "Jorund, son of Sigvald. If ye've no one to drink with, sit down with me. Share some mead and a tale."

They walked to a darkened corner of the tavern and sat down. A pitcher of mead was brought along with three tankards. Jorund poured the round.

"Heard about the situation here, with the lighthouse. Can you tell me more?" asked Geralt.

"It's a ghost I think, or some other nightmare," said Jorund, his manner subdued. It was as though he were not quite sure what to believe. "It haunts the isle of Eldberg, near the lighthouse. Started out harmless, lighthouse just stopped burnin' one night. Without it, ships can't make Arinbjorn safely so we sent two men up to see what'd happened."

Geralt nodded. "Let me guess. They didn't come back."

Jorund sighed heavily. "Nay, they didn't. Mikkjal, the light keeper, he'd also gone missin'. So I gathered some lads, a rescue party, and off we sailed. As we neared the isle, I hit the rudder hard and turned 'round. I'd seen a wraith on shore."

Keira had her hands firmly in her lap, clenched together. All this talk of wraiths and vanishing men made her nervous. Geralt reached over and lay his hand over hers, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

Jorund took a sip of his mead. "Ye must think me a coward. But...well, crude steel'd not do us much good there. I felt it in me bones. All I could think to do was gather gold round the village for a reward, get some aid. Help us and it's yours."

He looked at Keira, then back at Geralt. "If ye do go, best to leave this young lass here. The isle is no place for a woman."

Geralt smirked. "Keira is a sorceress. More dangerous than I am."

Jorund's eyes widened. He would not have guessed the fair and delicate looking beauty was a magic user. She was unlike the raven haired force of nature that had been in the tavern yesterday. That one looked like she would tear the heavens asunder, this one was diminutive and gentle.

"Aye well look out for one another. If ye decide to go."

Geralt nodded. "Fine. I'll see what we can do."

Jorund looked relieved. "Thank ye, Geralt. You're a good sort, oughta be said."

Jorund went off to see to his chores, and sent two meals to their table on the house. Keira was very hungry and dug into her food without a word. She didn't want to talk about or think about the isle with its wraith. She wanted to go and hide in her room at the Inn and let Geralt handle it. He was an accomplished witcher. He could manage without her, couldn't he? But did she want him to? Did she truly _want_ him to go off alone and face the fates knew what out on that island, when she was perfectly capable of coming with him?

"Don't need to come, Keira," said Geralt softly. He didn't look at her, just kept on working on his food. "This is my life, what I do. I can handle it."

She swallowed her mouthful and took a sip of mead. "I know, Geralt. But I would be more worried about you if I weren't at your side."

He put his arm around her shoulder for a moment and squeezed her. She turned to him sharply and for a split second he saw something in her eyes that surprised him. It wasn't confusion or wariness. He could have sworn it was fear. But what on earth could she be afraid of? It had to be the whole wraith situation. Keira had made it clear she was not a battle sorceress in any way. Yet she had agreed to come with him, knowing there could be monsters involved. Her motivations puzzled him. Keira was one to do something only if there was something in it for her. What could traveling to Skellige with him possibly do for her? He chewed his current mouthful carefully and shelved his thoughts on the matter.

"I'm grateful," he said and let it go at that.

They finished up their meals and mead and headed outside.

"Need to hire a boat," said Geralt. "It's either boat or a possibly hazardous journey on foot. Boat could be a rocky ride too."

"There is a third option," said Keira. "I could teleport us if I can get within visual range. I've never been here so I can't do it without."

"Hell no," said Geralt too quickly. "I hate portals."

"Oh come on!" she chided him. "You'll fight things I won't even look at a picture of, but you're afraid of a little portal?"

His amber eyes stared directly into her very bright green ones. "Yes," he said bluntly.

She laughed. "Alright then you big baby, we'll do it your way."

They scoured the village looking for a boat, but found none. The only ones available belonged to the fishermen and they had them out on the water. A young man said he had one they could use, but it was barely more than a canoe and would never make it across the rocky inlet.

"Looks like we're hoofing it," said Geralt.

He packed some refreshments and snacks for the journey. It would take several hours to begin with and he knew Keira was not an outdoorsy girl.

"Let me know when you want to rest," he said. "You can still change your mind and stay with Miriam."

"No, I need to be... _go_...with you."

He gazed at her for a few moments, then tightened up his sword holster and began walking.

 


	17. Into The Fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trek to Eldberg island is frought with horrors and Keira gets injured. Geralt has to face one of his fears.

* * *

The first part of the trip wasn't bad. It was hard tundra and large flat rocks. Keira occasionally began humming, and conjured up magical birds that flew from her hands; sometimes she created large bubbles that shimmered iridescent in the soft light. She would throw magical glitter into the air and spin around beneath it.

Geralt thought his heart would burst. This was not the Keira from the House of Metz, functioning within the constrains of noble society. This was the real Keira, the one who existed beneath the facade. He wanted to catch her in his arms and spin around with her, hold her tightly against him and feel the warmth and softness of her body. Most of all he desperately wished to kiss her, deeply and passionately, like he had that one unforgettable night.

"Mmm, Keira," he mused out loud, forgetting himself.

She stopped dancing around. "Yes Geralt?"

He cleared his throat. "Nothing. Forget it."

She scowled at him. "I won't! Don't say _mmm Keira_ , then say forget it!"

 _Think of something non stupid to say, quickly_ , he thought in a panic. _In this case the truth won't set you free. It will get you tossed off a cliff._

"Was thinking about a portal incident with Yennefer."

She fell into step beside him. "Oh, do tell!"

"Was in Kaer Morhen. Before you arrived. Yennefer was working on the megascope. Things weren't going her way and I showed up. Got prickly with me over some imagined Triss hair in the bed and threw it out the window. Portalled me out into the middle of the lake. Had to swim and walk all the way back. When I got there she thought I would apologize to her. Told her the view was spectacular and nothing more."

Keira gave a jubilant laugh. "Good for you, Geralt! What a horrid creature, to do that to you. You could have been hurt or worse!"

"I was fine," he said looking over at her with a smile.

"Fates, Geralt," breathed Keira suddenly.

"Hmm?" he asked, puzzled.

"I was just...caught off guard by your smile."

"Sorry?" he half asked, half stated.

"I wish you would smile more often. It probably means absolutely nothing to you to hear it from me, as I'm sure every woman in your life has said it, but you have a beautiful smile Geralt."

Keira's heart was pounding loud enough to compete with the surf. She wished she hadn't said it, but she just couldn't stand it any longer. If it weren't rudely obvious, she would spend her time staring at him.

He stopped walking. "You're wrong, Keira. Means a lot to me to have you say that. Don't hear it as much as you think. Thank you."

"While we're at it," she noted, tilting her head. "I like your hair the length it is. Very fetching."

He smiled again, and she thought that she would simply fold up and die right on the spot.

"Geralt, I never asked you what went on between you and Triss. You spent time at Kaer Morhen together? How was that possible with the spell?"

"Had a bad case of amnesia. Couldn't remember any part of my life. Triss was there to help put me back together in a way. Told me she was in love with me. Spent the better part of a year together. Spell made it difficult at times, didn't feel right. Yennefer wasn't impressed, never accepted the amnesia."

Keira wasn't surprised. "I hate to say it Geralt but I'm not surprised. She is completely self centered. To be angry with _you_ and not with her friend who knew better is just like her. I'd like to turn her into a mushroom sometimes."

"Forget about her Keira. I have."

They walked on quietly for awhile each lost in their own thoughts. Then they reached what appeared to be the end of the mainland. The path simply disappeared. Geralt walked forward and looked down. This was why they couldn't ride the ponies to Eldberg. Skellige had some spectacular terrain but not all of it was suitable for traffic of any kind.

"You aren't going to like this Keira," he observed. "Have some climbing to do."

He dropped himself down and called to her. "Come sit on the edge and I will lift you down to me," he instructed.

She sighed heavily, knowing that her pretty outfit was going to be a ruinous mess by the time all was said and done. She complied and Geralt reached up for her, lifting her down as gently as he would a child.

They stood on a rocky shelf, with the path continuing a short way before it rose up again via rocky, uneven ledges. Geralt led the way and Keira did her best to follow him. He would climb up ahead of her and pull her to him. She felt scuffs being created on her boots and silently lamented their destruction.

"How much more of this torture must I endure?" she asked after they had crawled and pulled themselves up yet another ledge.

"Don't know," said Geralt. "But it's too quiet here. Fog is thick. Don't like it. Be on your guard."

"What do you mean? Is it monsters? You think there are monsters here? Geralt?"

She came up behind him with a bump as he had stopped suddenly in his tracks. He reached up and grabbed one of his swords, pulling it free from its scabbard with a metallic hiss.

A pitiful crying came out of the fog. It sounded like a lost child.

"Shit!" he exclaimed. "Foglets!"

"Foglets? What are foglets? Where?" she looked around in a panic.

She saw Geralt cast a witcher sign in the air before him and a shimmer appeared around him. _Quen_. His protective shield.

Without another thought, Keira created a bubble and expanded it around the both of them.

"Can't stay close to you," he said. "Don't want to accidentally hurt you."

Suddenly something invisible hit Geralt and he stumbled back with a cry. Something horrific materialized for a split second before vanishing again. Keira saw a ghastly face with a huge mouth full of sharp teeth, and claws at the end of long arms.

"Help me!" called that disembodied voice. "I'm scared, please help me!"

"Geralt!" cried Keira. "There's a child lost out there!" She dropped her concentration and her bubble fell away.

The witcher was on high alert, his sword held in both hands in front of him.

"No, there isn't," he said in low tones. "This is what they do. They're trying to lure us deeper into the fog. Must be a bog nearby."

The crying continued for a few minutes, then suddenly stopped. Keira was thrown to the ground by an invisible force, a sharp pain raking down her back. She screamed.

Geralt turned and slashed, and something squealed. The horrific creature she had seen materialized and came at him with its claws. He jumped sideways, luring it away from her. He made another witcher sign which brought a loud thump and shook the ground. Stunned, the creature stumbled and all she saw was the thing's head go flying through the air and roll away through the fog.

Geralt then jumped and spun, slashing at something she couldn't see. Occasionally there would be a flash and the creatures would be behind him, then gone again, then somewhere else. How many of them were there?

Getting to her feet, she called forth a lightning strike.

"Geralt, quen!" she shouted at him. He made the sign and his shield appeared. It would protect him from her deadly strike. She let loose with a vengeance born of fear. Lightning struck the ground in several places and she saw more than one of the foglets as they were hit and writhed on the ground.

"There are too many of them!" she cried, and let loose another volley of lightning.

"It will be fine Keira," said Geralt, no trace of fear or concern in his voice. She watched as he spun, leapt and rolled, slashing and stabbing with his sword. One by one the dreadful foglets fell with a shriek.

The air thinned out, the fog dissipated, and they could hear birds and other sounds once more.

"Geralt," said Keira in a shaky voice. "They got me."

He was at her side in an instant. She was sitting on her knees, pale and trembling. The center of her cloak was in tatters, but it didn't look like the foglet's claws had penetrated to her skin. He had promised he would protect her, and he had failed.

"Sorry Keira. Foglets are terrible monsters. Didn't cross my mind that they could be here. Fog and all. Should have known better."

He removed his cloak and lay it across her shoulders. "Raked up your cloak. Didn't get your skin."

She sighed with relief. "You did nothing wrong Geralt," she said with an unsure smile. "There were so many of them. I'm glad it's over. Can we move on? I don't like this place."

She got to her feet and dusted herself off, pulling his cloak tightly around her shoulders. She would never get used to fighting. Ever.

Geralt looked over at Keira from time to time as they continued on. She was subdued and he didn't like it. _I have to pay closer attention_ , he told himself. _She can't get hurt again_.

When the lighthouse came into view, Keira stopped and sat down on a large boulder.

"My back hurts," she said, writhing. "Are you sure that thing didn't touch my skin? I don't like weird things touching me."

"Well that rules me out then," said Geralt trying to lighten the mood. He removed his cloak from her shoulders, then unclasped hers to check again. The outfit she wore had scratch lines where the Foglet had raked her, but it hadn't broken the cloth.

"Only your cloak is torn," he said.

"Geralt please check my back!" she insisted.

"Said you didn't want weird things touching you."

"Just do it already!" she begged, shrugging out of her outer layer.

Gently, he lifted the next few layers. Her skin was pale and smooth and perfect, but where the creature had attacked her, it was definitely marked up. The skin had not been broken, but the claw marks would leave a nasty bruised area. He put her clothing back down and tenderly rubbed her back. Keira arched away from him.

"Even that hurts, what did you find? Is it a terrible wound? Will it leave scars?"

He helped her put her layers back on, putting his cloak over her last.

"You'll have a bruise. Nothing to worry about. No scars."

"Good because I wouldn't want to look like you!"

She suddenly turned to look at him when she realized what she had so unkindly blurted out.

"Oh, I mean...I don't...I'm sorry Geralt I didn't mean for it to sound so cruel."

"Nothing cruel about it," he assured. "I don't want to look like me either."

"That's not what I meant," she replied, reaching up and smoothing some windswept hairs out of his eyes.

"Don't need to explain," said Geralt. "My scars. They're disfiguring. It is what it is."

She traced the long one on his face that went across his eye. "I'm sorry, Geralt," she fretted.

 _I can't blame her for not finding me attractive_ , he thought. _Scars make great stories but bad bedfellows._ _Life of a witcher isn't glamorous._

Keira was glad to keep moving and try to get her mind off her sore back and her impetuous words. She had hurt Geralt, she saw it in his eyes. It would have sounded contrived if she had told him then how beautiful he truly was to her. Would he even believe her when she did say it? Why was love so hard?

Geralt stopped at another ledge and hopped down, gently lifting Keira to him.

A channel of water lay between them and the edge of the island. It was wide and deep enough that they could not walk across it, and even so, Keira would most definitely not have agreed to do that.

"Well Geralt, I'm not swimming through that icy water, and there's no way you can carry me, so there's only one way across."

"Oh no...not a portal."

"Oh yes a portal!" she exclaimed and prepared to cast it. With a loud hiss and hum it appeared, an undulating red and gold tear in the fabric of space.

"In you go then," she said to him. "Come on you big baby!"

"I hate portals!" he moaned.

Keira laughed as he covered his face with his hands and stepped through. She followed him and it closed behind her.

 


	18. The Penitent Wraith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Keira learn the truth about the situation on Eldberg Island, and it's not good!

* * *

They made it through the portal neatly on the other side and Keira looked Geralt up and down dramatically. "Seems that all your parts made it over, of course some of them I can't see, but we can hope."

She laughed at his expression and moved on. The land sloped upwards towards the lighthouse. The fog was thick and occlusive but not in the same way it was when the Foglets had appeared. Keira stopped and waited for Geralt to get ahead of her. He held out his hand.

"Take my hand Keira," he instructed. "Fog is thick, have to be on alert."

"Do you think there could be more Foglets?" she asked apprehensively.

"Always a possibility but wraiths don't like to share their space. If we have a wraith we won't have Foglets."

"Oh thank the fates," she shuddered, gripping his hand. "Trading one horror for another."

They walked slowly and carefully through the mist. The lighthouse loomed above them silently.

Suddenly there was a movement ahead of them. Something was appearing and disappearing quickly around them. Whatever it was seemed to be made of the mist, but unlike the Foglets, this thing floated above the ground. As they watched, a few more made an appearance then vanished. They could not see any detail but that didn't make it any less frightening. The things didn't attack them, however.

"Are those wraiths?" asked Keira, squeezing his hand with both of hers even tighter.

"Yes. Never seen one before?"

"I've seen ghosts of a kind but never anything like this. I don't like it!"

Geralt put up his quen shield and Keira opened up a bubble around them.

A tiny cabin appeared out of the mist. There was a small pen for an animal or two, some unopened crates and a few barrels.

"This must be where Mikkjal lives," observed Geralt, letting go of Keira's hand. From somewhere a terrible wailing cry met their ears. It made Keira cringe. Geralt listened to it, his eyes glittering in the strange light.

"Definitely a wraith of some kind. Stay close to me," he insisted.

As they approached the door, Keira gave an exclamation of disgust. A rotting corpse lay prone beside a section of fence. Bugs crawled all over it and the stench made her want to retch. She covered her nose and mouth with her gloved hands.

Geralt pounded on the door. "Hey! Anyone there?"

The door swung inwards. The witcher edged Keira behind him and stepped inside. It was stuffy and the lighting was very poor. He heard the buzzing of flies but was unsure if it was from the corpse outside or from inside. He heard footsteps, then a shadow came around a corner. An unkempt, hollow eyed man stared at them.

"H...how did ye get here?" he stammered.

"Are you Mikkjal? The light keeper? Jorund from Arinbjorn sent us."

The man nodded warily. Something was not right about him, Keira could feel it and she was sure Geralt did too as he seemed to tighten up.

"Been talk of wraiths. Saw several and heard one just now. Where did they all come from? Last time I saw something like this was when..."

The man cut him off, his eyes wide, hands gesturing wildly. "From nowheres! That's just it!" he cried. "Fire went out and wind died of a sudden! That's how it started. Came out here for oil, stepped outta the house, looked up - saw the mist risin'. Then the ghosts showed! Came straight at me!"

He wrung his hands and moaned. "Bolted back inside, hasped the door, and then I heard it - someone whisperin' me name. Mikkjal, Mikkjal! I look out, there's the wraith, big bugger, bigger than the rest. And cold flowin' from it, such cold the windows frosted o'er!"

Geralt nodded. "These ghosts didn't appear without reason. Something brought them here. Any ideas?"

Mikkjal shook his head vigorously. "No clue. There's nothin' here! The lighthouse, me hut- just rocks besides! Even bloody drowners know there's nothin' for 'em on Eldberg!"

Keira stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Geralt's arm. She didn't know what drowners were, but was sure they weren't cute and cuddly little animals. Geralt brought his other hand across and gave hers a reassuring squeeze.

"This wraith," he said to Mikkjal. "Tell me more."

"It...it seemed more clever 'n the others. Like it knew. Knew everythin'!"

Geralt didn't move and waited for him to continue. The poor man was a wretch, wringing his hands and darting his eyes about.

"Haven't helped much, have I. Sorry, only saw it once. It disappeared right after."

"Strange," remarked Geralt. "Need to look around."

"Here," said Mikkjal, digging something out of his pocket and handing it to Geralt. "This key opens the lighthouse. You know. In case ye want to look inside...or ye need to run from somethin'!"

He backed away into his room and closed the door.

"Geralt, what do you think he meant when he said it knew _everything?_ " asked Keira softly. "And what are drowners?"

"Drowners are monsters. Humanoid, brown or blue in color. Reeks of rot. Come from drowned bodies. Usually pretty cowardly but will attack if someone comes near. Best to avoid them. As for the wraith, I don't know. Something isn't right here. Need to investigate."

"Hmm alright. He doesn't seem like he is telling us everything he knows."

"I agree," nodded Geralt. "Let's have a look around but be alert, Keira."

They walked around the cabin a bit but aside from some old books they found nothing that could shed any light on the wraith problem. Geralt went outside and she followed him. Taking the path up to the lighthouse, they came to a narrow, rickety wooden bridge. Keira was hesitant to cross it but Geralt simply stepped on and marched across. It creaked but held fast. She stared at her feet the entire way across.

A bone chilling cold gripped her and she pulled the cloak tighter.

"Keira," she heard Geralt say. "Stand still and don't move."

She looked up and saw him, sword in hand, body posed to strike. In front of him hovered the most terrible thing she had seen in a long time. It was large, larger than a regular human being. The face was that of a rotted skull, bone partially exposed but still hanging onto sections of decaying flesh. Its arms were near to bone culminating in hands with long claw like nails. The upper body was more of the same but the lower half seemed to be a mass of flowing cloth like the remains of a robe or dress. It had no legs or feet that she could see. Keira had no idea if it had been a male or a female, but icy coldness emanated from it and an echoey keening wail escaped its dead throat.

Keira began to tremble at the sight of it. She never considered herself brave or courageous. It irked her that because she had studied magic, people automatically assumed she was a cold blooded killer with no fear. They thought that her magic made her invincible to terror, pain or anxiety. That could not be further from the truth. Keira had always lived in cities, surrounded by guards and walls so she could pretend that monsters didn't exist, and that people hadn't wanted to torture and kill her just because she was a sorceress. She had broken her own rules to follow the man she was in love with, a man who didn't love her back the same way, and had never even considered her. Staring up at the wraith, she felt like a terrified little girl who had just lost her mother.

With a sharp cry, Geralt lunged at the apparition. His sword went straight through its ethereal body and it laughed. The sound was like the bowels of hell opening up. Keira cringed and prepared a ball of lightning. When she released it from her hands it made contact with the apparition. The lightning forked through it and it stopped attacking Geralt and turned to her.

"Keira, I told you not to move!" he shouted and lunged at the thing again. It turned back to him. Keira put her protective bubble up. She watched him slash and hack at it, but it didn't seem to be deterring the wraith at all. Suddenly, without warning and as quickly as it had come, it vanished.

Geralt walked back to her. "Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm sorry Geralt but I couldn't just stand here and not try and help you. That _is_ why you brought me along isn't it?"

_I brought you along to be with you_ , he thought. Instead, he quipped "I brought you for comic relief!"

Keira smiled and shook her head. Geralt's face grew serious once more.

"I don't like what is happening here," he observed in low tones.

"What do you suspect?" Keira asked him.

"Hmm if I am right, it's a particular type of wraith, and it's not a good thing."

He held out his hand to her. "Come on, let's get inside that lighthouse."

They climbed a set of stairs to a small door and Geralt unlocked it with key Mikkjal had given him. The inside smelled musty, the air dry and stale. There was little in the way of furniture; some ramshackle bookcases with no books, empty crates, table and chair bits, and other indescribable items. A ladder led to another level, and looking up, they could see it went even higher.

Geralt went up first and called Keira up after. There was more of the same nondescript junk on that level but it contained a dirty bed with dusty sheets. It had been years since a light keeper actually lived inside the lighthouse itself.

The third level held two bookcases. The dust and grime that covered everything else was conspicuously missing from one of the shelves on the first bookcase. Keira moved the books around and a letter fell to the floor. She picked it up and looked at it.

"Geralt," she said. "I found a letter. Listen to this: _I've got work for you, Mikkjal. A ship's going to sail from Faroe to Arinbjorn with a load of hides and other bounty on board. At midnight you're to put out the light in the lighthouse and keep it dark until we give the sign with our torch. We'll split the loot same as always - you'll get a tenth of what the sea tosses ashore. Til we meet again._ "

"Damn," said Geralt, shaking his head. "Was it signed? Any other name?"

Keira shook her head. "So, he is the one turning out the light? To crash any ships and steal the bounty? How could someone do that?"

Geralt's expression was grim. "Mikkjal might have done it initially but that wraith out there has now taken over this island. Looks like Eldberg has a very dark secret."

Keira shivered. "You said earlier that this might be a particular kind of wraith. Is it?"

Geralt nodded. "Want to walk around the lighthouse. Look for runes, symbols."

"You mean as in a curse?"

He nodded. "Mmhm"

"I can help with that part just please don't let anything touch me."

Geralt stood in front of her, the poor lighting making him almost ghostlike himself. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her face.

"I know this is not your idea of fun. I'm grateful you came. Said it before, saying it again. Thank you Keira."

He leaned down and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

She didn't move but softly said _dog,_ mostly to remind herself not to get caught up in his tokens of affection.

"Woof," responded Geralt, and turned back to the ladder.

At the back of the lighthouse Keira found what they were looking for. Some strange symbols had been painted on the stones.

Geralt's eyes glittered. Keira knew he was using his supernatural senses.

"Symbols of a bonding," he noted. "Manifestations of ill will, focused, concentrated."

Keira named each of the runes, using a protective word in between each utterance to negate the chance of enhancing the curse any further.

"It is indeed a curse. Witchers are supposed to be adept at curse removals, or so I thought. I can try and remove it Geralt, but I am not sure how much good it will do.”

He shook his head. "No. Don't. This curse keeps the specters here. Removing it in this case won't help. Too risky for you."

His expression was grave, and Keira was concerned. "What is it Geralt? I have never seen you as worried about anything as you are now. Please tell me."

"Ever heard of a penitent?"

She shook her head. "Is it bad?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Very bad. Type of wraith who haunts people who have done dark deeds. More than once. Gets its power from the mist and darkness. Good thing it didn't decide to engage me earlier."

She blanched. "Why not? You can best it can't you? Geralt?"

He shook his head. "Need this lighthouse working, take some of its power away, otherwise no, I can't beat it. If Mikkjal's the cursed one then he's bound to this place too. He's the one who must light the fire in the lighthouse and break the curse. Need to get back to him."

"What if he won't?" she asked.

"Then we leave and this island stays cursed. No other way. But Mikkjal will do it. Keira, we are going to run back to the cabin. No stopping. Can't get into a battle with these things. Can you manage?"

She nodded then drew some symbols in the air. "Fleet of foot," she said.

He took her hand. "Ready?"

She nodded and he took off, pulling her with him. She saw wraiths pop up here and there, the screeching wail of the penitent echoing around them as they ran. She tried not to look at them and focused on the ground ahead and the feel of Geralt's hand. It felt like a far longer run back then the trek up to the lighthouse but they soon saw the cabin rise out of the mists.

As they burst inside, panting, Mikkjal opened his room door a sliver and peered out. He emerged when he saw it was them.

"Phew...it's just you. Learn anythin'?"

"Island's haunted by a penitent," said Geralt. "Spectre punishes the guilty for crimes, foul deeds."

Mikkjal moaned and wrung his hands.

Geralt's eyes were hard. "Deeds like luring ships onto the rocks, then looting the wrecks. Don't bother to deny it. Found the letter."

Mikkjal's eyes darted around the room. "Longboats sink every so often anyway. That's the sea! That's its nature! At least the cargo don't go to waste!"

The terrified man withered beneath Geralt's gaze.

"We'll come back to that later," he said. "Just now, we need your help."

"B...but what? I'm no warrior!" stammered Mikkjal.

"Guessed that already," said Geralt wryly. "Curse grips both you and this place, only you can lift it. Have to light the fire in the lighthouse. Penitent's invincible as long as darkness covers the island."

Mikkjal's eyes grew large and horrified. He backed up until he hit the wall. "I...I...I can't go outside! It'll kill me! I can f...feel it! Mayhaps ye could..." His eyes darted to Keira.

"No," said Geralt firmly. "Not us. You. We will escort you. Now no excuses. Grab some oil and let's go. Before we change our minds."

 


	19. A Curse Lifted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the curse lifted and the penitent wraith defeated, Keira and Geralt head back to Arinbjorn. Geralt ponders the state of their odd relationship.

* * *

Keira almost felt sorry for Mikkjal until she reminded herself what great evil he had perpetrated to bring the curse to bear upon himself _. Fates Geralt_ , she thought. _How could you do this sort of thing day after day?_

They went outside and began the trek to the lighthouse. Suddenly Mikkjal stopped and pointed, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

"L...Look! There! It's him!"

A thick roiling fog had appeared, and within it they could see the shape of the penitent horror.

"I see it," remarked Geralt. "Now shut your mouth and go light the fire. Remember - you fail, the penitent will kill me. Then come for you."

Keira's eyes were large with fear. "It can kill you? Geralt! You didn't tell me that!"

"Told you it was invincible. What did you think it would do? Play Gwent with me?"

"This isn't funny at all!" she cried.

"You see me laughing, Keira?" he asked harshly.

She turned her back on him and looked at Mikkjal. "I'll cast a fleet of foot spell on you. It'll let you run quicker. Now go!" Wide eyed he spun and stumbled, caught himself, and took off running.

"Hurry up!" Geralt shouted after him. "I don't know how long I can manage this!"

Keira put up her protective bubble and threw an agility spell at Geralt for all the good it would do him. The penitent wraith began to move towards them. Her heart was beating so fast she feared it would uproot and fly out of her chest. There was nothing she could do against an invincible spirit. An angry invincible spirit at that.

Horrible sounds burst from the creature's ravaged throat as it attacked. Geralt was playing cat and mouse with it, not allowing it to hit him. He had to keep it engaged and away from Keira until Mikkjal managed to light the fire. Geralt threw down his spirit trap spell and it held the thing for a few precious seconds, allowing him to catch his breath. He would run and let it catch up, trap it, run and wait. What was taking that light keeper so long? He should have been there by now. Geralt was tiring. Keira could see his speed decreasing, and he didn't react as quickly. She cast a fleet foot spell on him and endurance. But her spells would not stay forever, and when they ran out, he would be in bad shape.

His exhaustion was becoming dangerous. He stumbled while dodging the penitent's attack, and fell. The creature hit him hard and sent him flying back several feet. Keira prepared and threw a lightning ball at it just as the lighthouse sprang into life.

Geralt saw the wraith turn towards her, and threw down the spirit trap again. The penitent howled with rage as it was caught, and its power drained by the light. With a snarl, Geralt leaped at it and slashed. Although his sword seemed to go right through it, the attack definitely weakened it. Keira showered it with shards of ice and lightning, while Geralt kept it trapped as best he could, slashing and stabbing at it.

The penitent began to shrink. Finally, it collapsed into the ground, fading from view. The fog around the area faded also.

Keira cheered and jumped up and down. "We did it Geralt! We killed the monster!"

He walked to her, breathing heavily and wiped his hand across his brow. Then he threw his gloves down, took her face in his hands and kissed her.

Shocked, Keira just stood there. She didn't know what to do or say. Hadn't she wanted him to do this very thing? She blinked, then turned towards the lighthouse. Her senses were muddled, she couldn't think straight.

"M...Mikkjal," she stuttered. "The other wraiths..."

"They are all gone. By-product of the penitent," answered Geralt, laying his hands on her shoulders.

They saw Mikkjal come running back. "D...did it work?" he asked nervously.

"It did," responded Geralt. "But that doesn't make the island safe. 'Cause you're still here. A light keeper who lures ships onto the rocks."

"It's a terrible thing you did," admonished Keira. "How many died because of it?"

Mikkjal looked contrite and couldn't meet their eyes. "I made a mistake. I know this now. I swear by Freya and all the gods...never again!"

Geralt nodded. "Absolutely never. Soon as we're done talking, you're going to pack up and leave. For good. Understand?"

Mikkjal looked devastated. "But...I...I....yes, I understand."

"Goodbye, Mikkjal," said Keira, and she turned and began to walk back down the hill, Geralt behind her. He caught up and put his arm around her shoulder. She looked up at him and twisted away.

"Geralt, please...I can't do this right now. Let's get back to Arinbjorn. I'mm so very tired, hungry and cold. I refuse to walk all that way. Please take my portal."

She cast it right where she stood.

He started to protest but she had already walked through.

"But...I hate portals," he moaned, and closed his eyes and stepped in.

* * *

The village was ecstatic about the demise of the penitent. Once Geralt and Keira had told Jorund about the events at the lighthouse, he gathered up the townsfolk and told them the story. The witcher and his companion were given a free meal and mead at the tavern, then went back to the Inn. Miriam and Keira sat together and talked while Geralt went to the room and had his bath. He was tired and wanted to rest for the evening.

By the time she had returned and had _her_ bath, Geralt was already in bed.

Keira felt awkward. There had been so much affection between them all day, affection that she had not denied him, and now things felt strange to her. Instead of her usual small clothes, she chose to sleep in a nightdress that revealed very little.

Geralt was reclining in the bed, his hands beneath his head. He gave her one of his killer smiles when she emerged. _Oh fates_ , she thought.

"You alright, Keira?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she answered, sitting on her side of the bed.

"Can check your back again. Does it still hurt?"

"No, its fine, thank you."

She smelled wonderful and he took a deep breath. "Why all the clothing? Are you cold?"

"I've been cold all day," she said and got into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.

"I can hold you, warm you up," he suggested.

Her heart began to pound like a war drum again. _You have no idea how badly I want that Geralt_ , she thought. _But I really must maintain some self control_. _I've allowed far too many liberties already._

"I'll be fine once I fall asleep," she yawned. "It's been a long day, goodnight Geralt." She curled up onto her side.

He rolled over but her back was to him. Reaching out a hand he touched her hair gently. She didn't move or speak so he did his best to try and sleep. It was difficult. All he could think about was that the woman he loved so deeply was inches away from him and he couldn't even hold her. She had been playful and affectionate with him all day, holding his arm and his hand, embracing him, allowing his kiss. Now she had reverted back behind her walls. _Why do you do that, Keira?_ he wondered. _Do you care for me at all? Or am I just truly your business partner and nothing else? Worse, a plaything? Do you even still want to have a child with me?_ Aside from telling him the names she had thought of for her baby, Keira had not brought up her experiments or anything to do with the situation.

Geralt was confused. It was not an unusual way of being for him, however. For over 20 years Yennefer had strung him along too. She could come on like a raging inferno exploding with passion, then the next moment be akin to the white frost and untouchable. She refused to make love with him when he had desired her, but expected him to be ready to perform at her command.

As for Keira, he had never seen her behave this way before. In all their years of knowing one another, she had been steadfast in who she was. Keira was consistent. She was playful and flirty and as he had come to know just once: passionate. But since they had met up again, she seemed to be different somehow. Her sensuous nature seemed to be held in check. Geralt couldn't understand it.

He looked over at her, still curled up. How long had he lain awake thinking? Was she really asleep or just making a show of it? Carefully he crept over to her.

"Keira?" he whispered near her ear.

She didn't respond.

He kissed her head. "Keira, I love you. Always have, always will."

She made a small sound and moved slightly.

Geralt crept back to his side, but let his hand rest on her hip. Finally, he fell asleep.

 


	20. Farewell to Skellige

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their time in Skellige ended, Geralt and Keira talk as they ride back to the ship and prepare for their return to the Continent.

* * *

When morning came, Geralt was not in the room. Keira sat up and called for him but there was no answer. She took her time getting dressed and ready, then spied her cloak hanging over the back of a chair. She thought she had hung it on the door hook. _I best see how badly damaged it is_ , she thought. She could enchant it and repair it well enough she supposed, but when she lifted it down and spread it out, her heart skipped a beat. The tears were there, rather they were visible, but someone had taken great pains to stitch the damaged bits together. It hadn't been done by a seamstress' experienced hand, but by someone who knew the bare basics.

_Geralt._

Keira ran her fingers over the crude stitches gently. He must have sat up for hours doing this for her while she slept. She was overwhelmed by the gesture, and quite nearly ran from the room to find him.

Miriam was preparing breakfast.

"Good mornin' lamb," she said with a smile. "I've got yer breakfast here, if ye want to sit down and wait a moment. Where is yer lad?"

"I was hoping you could tell me. I need to find him right away."

"Och well if he isna here, try the tavern. Nae to many places for a lad to go here."

"Thank you Miriam, I'll come back to eat I promise."

She found Geralt and Jorund playing Gwent, the latter losing rather badly to the witcher.

"Geralt!" she cried. "Thank you so much for repairing my cloak!"

He gave her a slight smile. "How do you know it was me? Might have been a Foglet come to apologize."

She leaned in quickly and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Then go kiss the Foglet for me."

She turned on her heel and left quickly before he had a chance to get any ideas.

"She's a beauty, that one," said Jorund. "No disrespect intended Geralt."

"She is," he agreed. "Problem is I can't get her to take me seriously."

"I don't think I follow you," said the other man.

"Known her a long time. Doesn't love me the same way."

Jorund laughed. "Ye blind boy! I think even a man missin' an eye can see she's plenty in love wit' ya!"

* * *

At the Inn, Miriam and Keira ate their meal together, and the older lady asked when they would be leaving.

"There isn't anything else here for us," said Keira. "So I believe we will be leaving today."

"I'll miss ye both. It's nice seein' new faces every now and again."

She poured some more tea. "Have ye any children waitin' at home?"

Keira shook her head sadly. "No, sorceresses, and witchers also, are not able to conceive."

Miriam's eyes filled with pity. "Isna that a terrible thing! Both of ye afflicted so. It must be hard, I'm sorry for both ye lambs."

"Well, Geralt and I are just friends. We aren't together in that way."

"Ye should be! I see the way he looks at ye, and same goes for ye. There is far more between ye than ye give credit to."

"I've known him a long time, we've always been close. He just doesn't see me as a lover," confessed Keira.

"That just isna true at all child," disagreed Miriam shaking her head. "Trust an old woman who knows. I know love when I'm lookin' right at it."

* * *

"Are we going home now Geralt?" asked Keira as they packed up their things from the room and tacked up the ponies. Rather, Geralt packed things up and tacked up the ponies. Keira, wearing one of the prettier outfits she had brought, was sitting on a chair watching him.

Townsfolk tried not to stare at her as they went about their business, but she could feel their eyes on her. Geralt noticed it as well.

"Never seen a more beautiful woman than you Keira," he remarked as he continued what he was doing. "Townsfolk getting an eyeful."

She sat up straighter and placed her hands neatly in her lap. "Well I _do_ look rather smashing today!"

"Mmhm," said Geralt, and that made her smile.

They mounted up and said their goodbyes to Arinbjorn. Keira had wanted to portal home, but the distance was great, and they would have had to do it over several stops. That made Geralt cringe and she wouldn't put him through it. Plus the fisherfolk had no need for the ponies, and neither Keira nor Geralt wanted to simply release them into the wilds. They were domesticated animals and needed a proper home. They hoped they could find someone to take them, if the original stable master they had purchased the ponies from didn't want them back.

"So, _are_ we going home?" she asked again.

"Haven't decided if the life of a witcher is right for you yet?" he responded.

"I miss Faris," she lamented. "It's not the same riding without him. It isn't as fun."

"You miss a _horse?_ Not your bed, your oversized mansion, your bathroom the size of Mikkjal's cabin...but a horse?"

"All that too. I asked Lambert this same question but: aren't you sick of living like a vagrant?"

Geralt shook his head. "It's all we know. It is what it is."

"I don't understand it in Lambert's case. He told me he hates the life of a witcher yet he refuses to put down any roots."

"And do what?" asked Geralt. "As I said, this is all we know. Contracts, monsters. How we make coin. Survive."

"He could find a wife," she suggested. "So many girls in the villages we visited were interested in him but he paid no mind to them. Well except the ones from the brothels. Yuck."

"He never tried anything with you?" Geralt asked.

Keira shook her head. "After the battle, when I took care of his injuries, he asked me if I would stay or go. I told him I wanted no more of that place. He said he would leave with me if I wanted company. It honestly surprised me, Geralt. Lambert barely had two words to say to me when I first arrived, in fact I don't think we ever spoke once since I met him until Kaer Morhen. Anyway he had everything ready to go once he felt well enough, and I hadn't even committed to taking him. However, as I thought about my plan for Alexander's notes, I realized that I could use a witcher to help me harvest what I needed and that was the tipping point.”

She seemed uncomfortable, fidgeting with her cloak. She glanced up at him, then away, then back at him. He said nothing but continued with the ponies. She would continue if and when she felt like it. He didn't have to wait long.

“Geralt, I suppose I should tell you, Lambert actually rejected _me_.”

That bit of information made him stop and fix her with an incredulous stare. “Did I hear you right? Lambert. My brother. Rejected a beautiful woman?”

Keira seemed embarrassed by the situation and nodded. “I felt obligated in some way to him for his help. I was affectionate with him, figuring to let him know that if he wanted more that I would be alright with it. For awhile I did think we were getting closer, then just out of the blue it was as if he put up a wall and that was that.”

She left out that she had told Lambert how in love with Geralt she had always been. She never imagined that Lambert could have had any real feelings for her, and anything between them would have been nothing but physical. According to what she knew of Lambert, she felt that that was exactly the kind of thing he would have gone for. The younger witcher had surprised her by completely shutting down. Not long after, they had parted ways. There had been no drama, no angst. Lambert had just told her one morning that he needed to go on his way and pick up some contracts. She hadn't seen or heard from him since.

“Anyway, I suppose he isn't the dog you always said he was."

Geralt smirked. "Oh he's a dog. You just scare him. Sorceresses do. Old Lambert won't ever settle down. He will die to some monster. Witcher's life."

Keira said nothing. She found it so sad that they just didn't seem to want more than what life had handed them.

"And what of your brother, Eskel? He always seemed very sweet. When I arrived at Kaer Morhen he set up a corner for me to settle into. He dragged up a bed and did his best to make it nice. It was still terrible, as that place is a ruinous mess, but the effort was not lost on me. He also brought me something to eat and drink."

Geralt nodded. "Eskel and I were close, like brothers. Took to each other the day he arrived. Trained and suffered together. Has a good heart. Keeps to himself though."

"Why?" asked Keira. "He seems to have a lot to offer someone."

"You've looked at him," stated Geralt. "Why do you think?"

"His scars?" asked Keira. "You have them too, and women flock to you like birds to a tree."

"Mine isn't nearly as bad,” remarked Geralt, indicating the deep scar that curved down his cheek. “Eskel doesn't believe anyone could ever love him."

"He's so wrong!" exclaimed Keira. "He needs a sorceress, who can put a glamor on him if he wishes it."

"Doesn't want to be loved as an illusion. Yennefer tried that on him, the glamor."

Keira sniffed derisively. "Yennefer isn't nearly as good at it as I am."

That made Geralt laugh. "You're right. When it comes to beauty, you have the monopoly."

Keira puffed up a bit at hearing that, and she gave Geralt one of her best smiles.

He looked up towards the shore. "Need to step up the pace. Flags are being raised on the ship."

He moved his pony off at a canter, then let the animal speed up. Keira followed him. The sure footed little beasts navigated the uneven terrain with precision that would have caused a finer city horse to pull up lame. As it was, they made it to the boat while cargo was still being loaded.

Geralt dismounted and removed his packs from the pony. He lifted his arms to Keira, offering to lift her down. For a moment it seemed as though she would accept the gesture then suddenly she sat back.

"I can get off a pony on my own, Geralt!" she objected.

"Never know, with all that fabric you wear," he responded. He turned around and summoned a boy of about 10 who was sitting watching the boat with his younger sibling.

"Yes sir?" asked the little fellow.

"Do you know how to ride a pony?" he asked.

The little boy nodded. "Me da taught me afore he died. Had to sell that one to buy a cow."

Geralt handed him the reins of his pony. "This is your lucky day. Pony is yours now."

The little boy's eyes lit up. "You mean it? For good?"

Geralt nodded and handed Keira's pony's reins to the younger sibling. "This one's for you. Your brother will help you."

The older boy looked suddenly sad. "Sir me ma won't believe someone gave these fine ponies to us. She's liable to box my ears for lyin'. I better not take 'em."

Geralt looked up and shouted to a man, counting the cargo for the manifest. "You! Come here."

The man scuttled over. "Yes sir?" He took one look at Geralt's eyes and stepped back. "I have no quarrel with you, witcher," he said.

"No? Then do as I tell you. Take these children to their home. Tell their mother that Geralt of Rivia gave them the ponies."

He gave the man some coin. "Take half of this for yourself and half you will give to the widow."

The man bowed. "Aye, as you wish master witcher," he said.

"If you don't I'll find out and I won't be happy. Understand?"

"Yes...yes I understand!"

Geralt turned to the children. "Now you lead on home. Go."

They turned, the man following along, having given his manifest to another dock worker.

Keira had watched the exchange with interest. There was such a deep caring and kindness in Geralt for people he didn't even know. He loved children and would often expend extra effort to see to the well being of a child. He was truly the perfect choice for a father.

As they boarded the ship and settled in, Keira stood at the railing and pondered. She could complete the experiments and see what happened. If they were successful she and Geralt would conceive a child. He would move on, as per their deal. She would have the little one she had dreamed of forever, but would lose the man she loved. As a child herself, Keira had believed that to get something you had to give up something of equal value. She found evidence of that notion everywhere she looked. Now it seemed to be playing itself out again. _What do I truly want?_ she asked herself. _I want Geralt's love. But that is something I don't believe he can give me._ _So I will have to be happy with a part of him_. She sighed heavily. _Why can't I have both? Why must love be so difficult?_

There were shouts from the sailors as they prepared to move off. The ropes were released, the sails partially unfurled, and the ship began her slow crawl to open water.

 


	21. Long Time No See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt makes a decision on the return voyage home, and back in Novigrad he and Keira are both surprised by the appearance of a certain prickly witcher.

* * *

As they reached open water, Geralt walked up behind Keira. He placed his hands on either side of the railing and rested his head on her right shoulder.

"An oren for your thoughts," he whispered.

Keira immediately ducked away from him. It felt far too nice to have him stand with her that way and things were going to be difficult enough when they had to part.

"Geralt, must you crowd me that way! I was thinking how kind it was of you to give the children the ponies. They will be well looked after at least."

"Mmhm," he said. "Five day journey to Novigrad. Stop in and see Dandelion. Then home. Agreed?"

Keira nodded. At least he would still be with her. The breeze ruffled his hair as the ship began to move. _Fates but he's handsome,_ she thought. She wanted to put her arms around him and hold him close.

"Geralt," she said. "What if I never complete my experiments? How long will you stay?"

He gave her a quizzical look. _What exactly was she asking him?_

"Want to wander the world with me instead? Kill some monsters?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" she exclaimed. "I'm hardly battle savvy."

"You could learn."

"I don't want to learn. I like living in safety, thank you very much."

“I'll keep you safe," he said softly.

Keira gave him a sidelong glance. "Yes, my back is evidence of that."

Geralt's eyes were sad for a moment then went back to their usual mundane expression. "Did you die? I kept you safe."

With that he turned from her and wandered away, leaving her staring after him. She said too many things that hurt him. For a witcher, a trained killing machine, he was very sensitive but hid it well. They were all good at hiding their emotions. But Geralt hadn't answered her. He hadn't said how long he would stay. He wanted her to follow him around but she just couldn't live that way. She loved her creature comforts too much and he respected that.

It was like a bird being in love with a fish. One couldn't fly and the other couldn't hold their breath. She couldn't handle wings, and the city would suffocate him.

Tears crept into Keira's eyes. She willed them away, but they refused to do her bidding, creeping down her cheeks one at a time. Could she maybe _learn_ to adapt to a witcher's life? She had, for the most part, learned to exist as a fugitive on the run from Radovid's forces, and the zealots of the Church of the Eternal Fire. She _had_ lived as a hedge witch for quite some time hadn't she? The mere thought of it made her want to weep. But she loved Geralt so!

Geralt came quietly back around the corner and saw her wipe those tears from her face. He stepped back out of sight. _What was wrong with her?_ Keira was not a sad and downtrodden person. She was gregarious and playful and lively. She truly did not belong roaming the wilds. She was a princess, a beautiful creature that was meant to be dressed up, danced with, and adored. He recalled the last time he had seen her all those years ago, in that dirty little village of Midcopse in a ramshackle cottage on the edge of town. She had been withering away in lands filled with monsters and death. It was not the life for her. Geralt closed his eyes. Wearing a doublet every now and then wouldn't kill him. And there was truly nothing wrong with a fine soft bed to sleep in with no worry of attack, and indulgent food in his belly that he didn't have to catch himself.

He would try, for her. Surely she wouldn't begrudge him the occasional escape when it got to cloistered? For now he would just enjoy the voyage home with her. He still had time to sort things out.

He took a deep breath and walked back around the corner. "Keira," he said. "Want to play Gwent with me?"

* * *

Dandelion, as usual, was excited to see them again. He asked about their time away, and was enthralled by their adventure.

"You are so brave! I would have screamed like a girl and run!" he exclaimed laughing when Keira described the penitent wraith.

"I wanted to," said Keira. "I was mortified by the sight of it. Geralt handles such things with fearlessness. Witchers are insane, I'm sure of that now."

"You helped," mentioned Geralt. "It was good to have you along. Do it again in a heartbeat."

"I can bet there are more penitent wraiths out there!" crowed Dandelion.

"Maybe, but they are rare."

"Thank goodness," responded Keira. "If I never see another one I shall die happy. It was a horrifying experience. But I admit, I liked Miriam, the Innkeeper at Arinbjorn very much. The ship travel however I can do without. It was rather nasty. I slept on a deck chair the entire voyage."

"There were no beds?" asked Priscilla.

"Yes, but they were revolting. I don't care to imagine what sort of dirt and bugs were in them."

Geralt smirked. "Tried to get her to sleep in a hammock. Didn't go well."

"I wonder why!" exclaimed Keira. "You expected me to sleep in a net then called me a whale!"

"Oh ho ho!" laughed Dandelion. "Geralt the great lover strikes out! Should have stuck to poetry my friend!"

"Keira said it was a net for catching a whale. So I picked her up and said I caught one. Seemed logical to me."

"You're a dog," said Keira.

She noticed two young women sitting at another table who kept looking over at them. One would whisper to the other and they would giggle like schoolgirls. Geralt saw it as well, raising his glass and winking at them. They burst into a flurry of twitters.

"How infantile!" remarked Keira.

"What..." said Geralt.

"Them. Acting like children. As if they haven't ever seen a man before. Really Geralt you ought not encourage them."

"Maybe they haven't. Might be the first one."

"They could do better," she sniffed.

Dandelion's eyes widened and he gave a guffaw. "Touché Geralt! Touché!"

Geralt said nothing, but poured himself some more ale. He drank it down quickly then poured another.

"Easy my friend, easy!" said Dandelion. "Keep this up and you'll be too drunk to enjoy tonight's performance!"

Keira excused herself and went outside. Seeing Geralt womanizing reminded her of the way she had felt all those years ago, and apparently still did. Really, a wink and a toast wasn't womanizing, but those same feelings came over her and she couldn't bear to deal with it. She walked across the street to a millinery and perused the hats. Surprisingly, nothing struck her fancy.

She tried the jewelers and the dress shop. There was a lovely cloak on display and she looked it over. It was a soft blue which complimented her nicely, but then she considered the one that she had just worn on their adventure, the one Geralt had lovingly stitched together.

"Interested milady?" asked the shopkeeper. "This one was just completed. It will fit you perfectly. Shall I wrap it up?"

Keira looked at her as though she hadn't heard a word. She nodded absently. "Yes, alright. I shall tell you where to deliver it."

One more cloak for her collection of several. It would compliment many of her outfits and look lovely on her. But she truly had no interest in it. Acquiring for the sake of acquisition as was her way, to ensure she was the furthest possible distance from being a peasant.

Having paid for the cloak and ensuring it would be properly delivered, Keira wandered from shop to shop, vendor to vendor. Finally she sat down on a bench, unsure what to do with herself. A shadow suddenly blocked out the sun.

"Well what do you know! Keira Metz!"

She looked up, then smiled sedately, hiding her surprise.

"Hello Lambert. It's been awhile."

He smirked. “Sure has! What the fuck are you doing out here in Novigrad?”

“What I usually do in cities. Shopping. I would ask what _you_ are here for, a contract perhaps?”

Lambert shook his head. “Just dropping some coin at the bank. Eating some real food, drinking some serious alcohol. Saw a few Griffin schoolers wandering around. Made me wonder where Geralt and Eskel are these days."

Keira pointed in the direction of The Chameleon. "Funny you should ask that. Geralt is at Dandelion's place. We just came back from an Skellige."

Lambert raised his eyebrows. "We? You and Geralt? Together? That would fucking figure."

"No, Lambert, not _together_ -together," she said almost wistfully. "We were traveling as friends. He is staying at my home with me for the time being. I don't live in Novigrad however. My home is in Vizima."

She detailed to him about her plague research and subsequent cure, and her lovely home that she was so proud of. Lambert listened with interest.

“Guess all that shit I killed for you helped. Good to know.”

"What about you then?" Keira asked. "Have you met a lady friend yet?"

Lambert gave a short laugh. "I meet all kinds Keira. Thing is I get sick of paying them!”

Keira frowned. "I was referring to a relationship."

"Hey they _were_ relationships. Business ones, but it counts!"

"Just roaming the wilds then, as always," she remarked.

Lambert nodded but didn't look particularly happy. "Same old bullshit every day. I'm actually glad that Geralt ended things with Yennefer. She was a huge bitch to him, know what I mean?”

"Oh, do I ever! I had front row seats to that joyful relationship for years. He's much better off without her."

"Think I'll go have a drink with that whoreson brother of mine. Coming with?" Lambert waited for her to rise. It felt strange, seeing Keira after so many years. They had parted as friends, but there was still something awkward between them that neither of them could put their finger on, nor were willing to delve into.

"Geralt!" she called out as she walked into The Chameleon. "Look who I found outside!"

He looked over and saw his brother than stood up, embracing him warmly. "Lambert you old dog, what are you doing here in Novigrad?"

"Hey Geralt, what's with the touchy feely shit? You drunk already?”

Dandelion had taken away Geralt's ale earlier to give him a chance to sober up. He saw how put off Keira had been earlier and he knew he would have to rescue the witcher from doing something stupid he would regret later on. Dandelion knew that Geralt loved Keira, but it seemed he hadn't been able to convince _her_ of it yet. He figured he owed his friend some damage control.

"Welcome, Lambert!" said Dandelion. "Sit down, and have a drink. Haven't seen you in forever, how are things in your corner of the world?"

Lambert shrugged and sat down, accepting Dandelion's proffered tankard of ale.

"Thanks. Actually just passing through here. Then I saw Keira and she told me _you_ were here, Geralt."

"Just got back from an Skellige. Penitent wraith to deal with," said the older witcher.

"Nasty fuckers! Dealt with a few myself and that shit's not fun."

"It _was_ nasty. That was my second one. Having a sorceress with me was a great help."

Lambert took a deep drink from the ale. "I'll take your word on that one," he said.

"So," asked Geralt. "You been wintering in Kaer Morhen? Never went back myself."

Lambert shook his head. "Fuck no. You know I hated that shithole. You know if Eskel went back?"

"No idea. Said he wasn't ever coming back. Figured that was his end decision."

“Just as well that place can fall to ruin now. Kinda glad of that.”

Geralt shrugged. “Don't know. Liked getting together every year.”

Lambert made a face. “Getting sentimental in your old age? Not me.” He took another long drink of his ale and refilled it from the flagon then turned to Dandelion. "Any chance you got an extra room here for an old friend?"

"Always got one for friends, Lambert," said the bard. "Will you be staying long?"

"No, just for the night. Have to get moving in the morning."

"Would you be going anywhere near Vizima?" asked Keira.

Lambert shrugged. "Who the fuck knows?"

"Well, if you decide to head that way," she said. "You'll always be welcome in my home. It's large enough, believe me. I even have a stable and can easily house your horse as well. Geralt is staying there for the time being."

Her voice was kind and Lambert forgot to be his prickly self and looked straight at her without speaking for a moment, gratitude in his expression. She made him feel like a decent man. He couldn't understand why, after all these years, Geralt hadn't made a move on her.

Lambert remembered how she had quite pointedly told him that she had been in love with Geralt since they had first met. This had irritated, but not surprised the younger witcher. All women loved Geralt of Rivia. He had entire ballads written about him, not to mention stories that had morphed him into pure legend. But Keira had said they were traveling as friends. Lambert wondered what was really going on there. Keira Metz was one of the most seductive women he had ever met, had professed to be in love with Geralt all those years ago yet hadn't put the moves on him? He gave a mental shrug. Not his problem.

"I'll take you up on that if I'm ever out your way," he said. "You got good food there?"

Keira nodded. “Still hungry all the time Lambert? I have a wonderful cook, yes. But you might want to avoid her. She's a sorceress after all.”

Lambert shrugged. “I don't have to plough her, just eat her food.”

Keira rolled her eyes. “Eloquent as always, Lambert. But the invitation stands.”

Priscilla came over to the table and whispered something in Dandelion's ear. The bard nodded and stood up.

"It's time for our nightly show," he said. "After which there will be some dancing and refreshments served. I hope you can all stay awake for this!"

Dandelion scuttled off with Priscilla to attend the preparations.

 


	22. This One Time, At The Keep...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Lambert regale Keira with the tale of the drunken binge at Kaer Morhen many years ago.

* * *

Keira sat between Lambert and Geralt. Both of them seemed to enjoy themselves. Lambert drank and watched the show but didn't participate. Keira did, singing along with the songs that interspersed the play. Geralt looked at her with a small smile of amusement on his face and enjoyed _her_ more than the show itself.

A band dragged its instruments on stage after the actors had cleared off. Dandelion brought a round of mead to his friends and a plate of mixed sweetmeats, cheeses and crackers.

"So, what did you think? I wrote that play myself, well with Priscilla's help. She's so grand at managing the songs! I'd be lost without her!"

Geralt nodded at him. "It was good. No complaints."

"It was wonderful," said Keira with a smile. "The songs were a lot of fun."

"Wasn't bad," said Lambert. "Nice break from the bullshit out there.”

A few patrons got up to dance. Priscilla dragged Dandelion away.

"You going up there?" Geralt asked his brother. "Used to be a dancing fool."

He snorted. "That was long ago."

Keira looked at him with a twinkle in her eye. “Come on Lambert, for old times sake than.”

He looked at her and made a face, but begrudgingly got up. He was slightly tipsy and Lambert was an affectionate drunk; the idea of dancing was suddenly not that terrible. He was a wonderful dance partner. Lambert spun and twirled Keira with ease and she was putty in his hands.

Geralt watched them. He had learned most of those same dances and had planned to ask Keira to dance as well. Beautiful Keira, her green eyes bright with laughter and appreciation as she looked up at his brother. _Why can't you look at me that way,_ he wondered.

He reached for the ale again and drank it down quickly so he could refill and repeat.

Still laughing, Keira and Lambert returned to the table.

"You two looked good out there," said Geralt.

"It was wonderful, you never told me Lambert was such a great dancer!" exclaimed Keira.

"I had no idea," said Geralt. "He never danced with me."

"You never dressed up as a woman!" said Lambert. "At least not until that one time..."

Geralt groaned. "Not those stories, pleeeeease!"

Keira was instantly interested. "Geralt dressed up like a woman? Oh do tell me this one!"

Lambert poured some mead for Keira and then for himself and Geralt.

"Well," he began. "The whole dressing up thing seemed to have started way the fuck back in our Kaer Morhen days. Vesemir said our footwork was shit and we were gonna learn to dance. You can imagine a bunch of guys reacting to that one. Most of us thought it was dumb since it was only us there. _No girls to practice on_ they all bitched. So I figured I'd do them a favor and dress up as one."

Geralt put his hand over his face and shook his head.

"Anyway," continued Lambert. "I figured Eskel and Geralt should help too. They said hell no, but then I talked them into it. Be funny, I told them."

Geralt nodded and Lambert took a drink. The older witcher continued.

"Lambert shows up the next day wearing a dress and hat, even some damn heeled boots. None of us knew what to say. Even Vesemir stood there staring at him, lost for words. Lambert tries to give us shit for not going along with it, Vesemir tells him to take the crap off. Still want to know where he got it."

Lambert shook his head. “Never reveal your sources. You bust my balls but _you_ were all for it that last time before the Wild Hunt battle. Couldn't wait to get that dress on if I remember right, which I do.”

"What?" cried Keira.

"Too drunk to use our brains," said Geralt. "Was at the keep, before you got there."

"The three of us decided to have a bit of fun," said Lambert. "We had to put up with Yennefer and her do this and do that all fucking day so that night we were all of us ready to jump a portal to anywhere. We started drinking a few rounds. As it always happens with us, it's vodka and white gull and common sense fucks off. Then we started playing _'have you ever'_. Well Geralt drinks to pretty much every damn thing anyone says, and we were done and gone before long.”

Geralt grins. “Lambert goes off to piss and comes back wearing Vesemir's hat. Starts imitating him. Needed to refill our drinks and we send Eskel to the kitchen. He got lost and we find him outside, face down in the dirt wanting to puke, with his goat licking his face.”

Lambert laughed. “Yeah I had the genius idea that we needed some women to party with and we could use that megascope thing Yennefer had there to invite some of the sorceresses from the Lodge. Of course Eskel was all for it but figured that they might not come if they see guys. So I suggested we raid Yennefer's clothing to fool the women. Yeah...we actually put on the dresses which didn't fit us at all. I managed to get a dress and this frilly hat on and Geralt found these bloomers with these little flowers on them. Eskel was whining non stop about how his dress was too tight and it was digging into his ribs. None of us can even stand proper or walk straight. So Geralt turns the thing on and there is some guy on the other end who starts freaking out and runs away! He thought we were the Lodge come to get him!"

Geralt nodded and grinned. "Shit went south. Our rabble rousing woke up Yennefer. Thought the three of us were going to be nailed to the wall for sure. Expected to be portalled somewhere really far and bad. Told me to go to bed. Just sort of crumpled up right where I stood."

Keira was laughing so hard she couldn't catch her breath. The imagery in her mind of the three witchers pulling those stunts was too much. Her ribs ached.

"Uptight Yennefer must have been livid, but she didn't kill any of you! I'm quite surprised by that."

"So were we," responded Geralt. "No idea what it is with Lambert and dressing up though. He's a weird guy. Don't know how you ladies can stand wearing all that tight clothing."

"You are all weird guys," said Keira. "He never dressed up for me so I suppose perhaps that one night cured him of it."

“Very funny,” said Lambert. “Least I'm man enough to do what's gotta be done!”

“The man part is debatable,” grinned Geralt.

“Fuck you too Geralt,” prickled Lambert.

That brought another round of laughter.

“I can't believe you never told me that story while we were traveling together Lambert,” mused Keira.

“Wasn't ever drunk enough,” responded Lambert, refilling and downing another tankard.

Dandelion came back. "Glad to see you are having such a good time!"

"Oh Dandelion, Geralt and Lambert were telling me some truly funny stories!" said Keira.

Dandelion grinned. "Never a dull moment with a witcher around!"

The night wore on, and the band began to slow down. More stories were shared between them and Keira was having such a lovely night. However, Geralt was drinking far too much. His speech was slurred, and he couldn't walk straight. Still he kept on attacking the ale with a vengeance. He had never gotten himself drunk in her presence that way before. He always enjoyed his ale but this was beyond that. Lambert of course was more than happy to drink with his brother.

“I'm not feeling it yet,” he said to Geralt and poured them both another round.

"I'm going to bed," Keira told them both. "I'm very tired. Lambert I hope I see you before you leave. I shall not be up too late in the morning, if you could manage to wait?"

"Yeah I'll wait I guess," he promised.

“Please take Geralt to his room when you're done. Last time we were here he bumped his entire way to his room, knocked pictures off the wall and made a nuisance of himself and this time he might end up somewhere someone doesn't want him to be!"

Lambert laughed at that and Geralt turned and looked at her.

"Ke..Keira," he hiccuped.

"Goodnight, Geralt," she said firmly and headed off towards her room.

 


	23. No Going Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When it appears that his advances are not appreciated nor desired, Geralt makes a very hard decision regarding his future with Keira.

* * *

Lambert was in good spirits come morning. He was having breakfast, talking animatedly, while Geralt sat beside him and Dandelion with his head in his hands.

"Enjoying the results of your bender, Geralt?" she asked pleasantly as she approached them.

Geralt didn't even look up, he just groaned.

Lambert grinned.

"Morning Keira, had a good night?"

"Oh mine was wonderful. I fell right to sleep actually and didn't awaken at all during the night. What about you, Lambert?"

"Anything beats sleeping on the hard, cold ground."

Keira looked at Geralt and tilted her head to try and see his face. "And what about you, Geralt Roger Eric? Did you sleep soundly? Or did dreams of succubi keep you up?"

He raised his head and looked at her, his amber eyes bleary and bloodshot.

"Eskel's the one with the succubi fetish," he grunted. "Didn't sleep. Had to piss too much," he added. He didn't mention to her that he had slept very little and got into the _hair of the dog_ right when he woke up. Ordinarily a witcher didn't suffer any grievous effects of drinking the day after...unless he didn't stop imbibing!

"Well why don't you eat something, and have some water. No hair of the dog that bit you though. We do have to go back to Vizima today. At least I do."

He started to say something, but stopped and put his head back down. Keira ordered some eggs and toast, and took the liberty of choosing something for Geralt too. He was going to feel like hell for quite awhile and although she _hoped_ it would teach him a lesson, she doubted it would. This was probably just another side of him she hadn't seen yet. A side she didn't like very much. Witchers could drink outrageous amounts of alcohol. It took a lot to get them inebriated, and she wondered why he still was. However, it was his life and she had no say in what he did.

Geralt picked at the food at first but ate most of it. Lambert got his things together.

"So Keira," he said.

"Yes?"

"You still got a room for me at your fancy place there in Vizima?"

She smiled. "Of course I do. Here let me draw you a map to where my home is. Although I cannot promise I'll be there if you do arrive, I shall leave instructions with my house steward, Davram. You will always have a place there as long as you want it, Lambert.”

He watched as she drew out a basic map of the city with an X to mark her home. He wasn't surprised to find it was in what they called the "King's Corner". The wealthiest and most influential people lived in that part of town.

"Well I've decided to head back up to Lan Exeter for now," he said. He turned to Geralt. "Nice seeing you again.”

“Isn't Lan Exeter rather chilly? I thought you hated the cold!” quipped Keira.

Lambert made a face. “Thanks for fucking reminding me. Good coin to be made there.”

Keira grinned mischievously, making Geralt smile just a little.

"Keira..." Lambert's eyes were bright. They both hesitated a moment before embracing one another quickly. “Nice seeing you. Take care of this whoreson. Might cross paths again sometime.” With that he headed out.

Geralt was looking at Keira intensely. "You like him," he said.

"Of course I do, silly! I should hope you do as well. You're brothers after all."

Geralt nodded and moved closer to her but she stepped away, not a lot but enough that he didn't like the way it made him feel.

* * *

Keira was glad to be home. The packages she had had sent were in her chambers waiting for her. She gleefully opened them all, then put them in her closet, most likely not to be seen again for a long while. She had so much, it would be impossible to wear everything.

Davram gave her the house report and she ran through it respectfully before returning it to him. She trusted him with everything and never bothered to second guess what he did.

She went to the paddock to see Faris, and the horse came ambling over, still chewing his last mouthful of hay. She stroked his neck and velvety muzzle. "It wasn't the same without you! Next time you're coming with me," she said to the beast.

"Going somewhere?" asked Geralt. He had bathed and shaved and his hair hung loose around his face. His eyes were brighter and his lips curved into the semblance of a smile. She leaned against the fence as he approached her, and stood closer than he usually did. She could feel the heat from his body. Keira looked up at him.

"Eventually of course. Shopping, to visit Yulia and Amand, Dandelion...wherever. I don't always travel by portal. Riding can be rather nice."

"I'm a dog," said Geralt, and kissed her on the forehead, quickly, before she could react.

"Yes. You are, white wolf."

She pushed him away amiably and turned to stand on the fence to pat Faris. Roach wandered over and nuzzled her for treats.

Encouraged by her mild reaction, Geralt stood close behind Keira and put his arms around her waist, his head resting on her back.

"Geralt, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Believe it's called an embrace," he answered.

"I'm sure I knew _that!_ "

"Then why ask?" He pulled her off the fence and put her on the ground, turning her around to face him. She looked very disconcerted and uncomfortable. She held her hands clasped in front of her and stared up at him. He returned the gaze.

"Keira, there was a time you never would have turned away from me. Remember those years well."

"People change, Geralt," she said rather softly. "Time passes and it changes all of us. It makes us see things differently, makes us re-evaluate what it is we really want."

He said nothing but watched her face. She wasn't happy, he saw that very clearly. He thought that maybe his attention towards her lately was close to being reciprocated. He hadn't paid attention clearly enough to have noticed that it wasn't. His closeness seemed to be a detriment to her well being. All those years ago they had been so close and so affectionate with one another. Keira thought nothing of laying with her head in his lap, taking his hand or his arm, or embracing and kissing him. She never asked for anything from him but that he return her affections, and he did, and he loved her so deeply for just being her. He had read much into it, thinking that one day perhaps they would be lovers on a permanent basis. Then they'd had that one night and he was so encouraged. Why had everything fallen away after that? Now that he was available to love her, she was distant. The discomfort in her eyes bothered him and he made a decision. He loved her too much to put her, and himself, through a closeness that was one sided.

"Keira, maybe it's better if I leave for awhile. Give you some space."

She looked at him, surprised. "Space? Geralt...my entire home is one big space."

"It is. Not used to it. City is like a prison. Need to be out there with Roach for awhile."

_And there it is_ , she thought. _The wanderlust has returned just as I always knew it would_.

"Well you know you can always return here if you wish. You aren't a prisoner here, Geralt and I am disappointed that you feel that way. I have a lot of work to do yet with my experiments and we've been gone from here a long time. Give my best to Dandelion should you end up in Novigrad."

She did her best to sound nonchalant about it but her heart was breaking. She had hoped against hope that he could settle in with her and be happy, but there was no changing a witcher. They were roaming souls, cursed in a way with that horrible wanderlust that stopped them from remaining in one place too long. His shows of affection had been just as they always were, distractions until it was time to move on. Keira brushed past him and disappeared into the house. Once out of his sight, she ran up the stairs and into her bed chamber where she threw herself onto her bed and sobbed into a pillow.

Outside, Geralt was staring at the dark space that had swallowed her up. There was not an iota of regret on her face or in her voice when he had told her he was leaving. She didn't even try to convince him to stay, didn't even remind him of their deal. He felt heartsick as he let Roach out of the paddock and tacked him up. He loved Keira, her ridiculous home and her opulent lifestyle. No, it wasn't what he was used to, but he had grown comfortable with it in a way he never thought possible. And being so near to her everyday had been wonderful. She had come to mean so much to him.

And just like that it was over.

Geralt of Rivia gave a last glance at the mansion as he rode out. He didn't understand where things had gone wrong. He truly felt that he and Keira were getting closer, that she was going to be with him the way she had all those years ago. _Maybe I should just openly tell her how I feel_ , he thought. Then her words echoed back to him and he realized that there was no going back. _“...makes us re-evaluate what it is we really want.”_

Perhaps it was time for him to do the same. Maybe there was just no going back.  


 

 


	24. Better To Have Loved And Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keira makes a breakthrough in her research, but when Geralt fails to return after several months, she makes a decision and sets out to find him with the help of a friend.

* * *

Keira expected Geralt to return. She thought that within a few days of living in the wilderness he would miss her lovely, comfortable home, and her.

Days passed.

Weeks passed.

A month passed, then two, then three.

Keira buried herself in her laboratory with her work. She wrote to Yulia often with questions regarding the formulae and each attempt drew her closer to completion. She wanted to tell someone about it, but there was no one. Davram and the servants had no idea what it was she was working on, and though they knew she had cured the deadly plague, they had no understanding of alchemical works.

She would ride Faris down the path to the shore and gallop him back and forth, the wind in her hair. Some days she sat by the pond in her garden or in the shade of one of the large trees. Her mind and heart always went back to Geralt. She wondered what he was doing, if he was alright, if he missed her even a little. She remembered those long ago days when they had first met, how her heart had been completely captured by him. How she did everything she could to gain his attention. When she carefully considered it, Keira realized that he often _had_ chosen to be with her rather than anyone else. There were times when Yennefer was with him, commanding him to serve her in some way, and Geralt would escape and look for Keira, and they would run off and find somewhere to be alone. They would talk and laugh and play and forget the stresses of the world.

Keira thought about their time on an Skellige. He had been demonstrative with her, just as he always had been, but she had been so reluctant. She wanted more than just a casual encounter this time. She didn't want Geralt the dog who would run off after she'd given him her heart. But despite her efforts to the contrary, she had fallen in love with him all over again.

Was it possible that he had been trying to tell her something this entire time? In his own way, could the witcher have been holding his heart out to her, waiting for her to take it? Could their roles have somehow been reversed so now it was she who was acting blind? It was too outrageous to be true, but the signs were there when she looked at them with an open mind.

Sadness gripped her heart in a vice and squeezed. She had rejected him time after time because of her own fear.

Now he was gone.

* * *

Geralt had roamed from place to place, taking contracts, filling his pouch with coin, his heart heavy. Keira would fill his mind at the strangest times, and he would go over what he had said and done to drive her away from him. He had seen how much she enjoyed cavorting with Lambert at The Chameleon. That was the Keira he had fallen in love with. The one who had danced and played on the path to Eldberg, the one who threw apples down on him, who had pulled him into the pond. That was _his_ Keira. The honest, straight forward, brilliant sorceress who loved fashion and luxury and all beautiful things.

Several times he found himself riding back to Vizima, but stopped himself. Why put her in the position to have to send him away? She had said he could always return, but if it would make her unhappy why would he do that? So he rode further and further from her, hoping that distance and time would help him forget.

He wondered if she had completed her research and found a cure for her infertility. He felt guilty for not talking to her about it before leaving, to make sure that she no longer wanted his help. He thought about the beautiful child they could have had together, that would now never know life. Who would she choose to be the father now? Some stranger? Someone she knew? He thought about returning just to tie up that loose end, but he just couldn't find the heart to do so.

* * *

It happened on a grey and rainy day. Keira entered her lab to find her female rat with a pile of pink and squirming babies. They were alive and well, and she squealed with joy! They were all spotted rats, and she laughed when she realized she wasn't sure if they were born fertile or not. The best part of it was that her male was still alive and quite interested in what was going on in the other cage. Keira would have to determine if her new babies would be sellable as pets or if they were a new breed of fertile spotteds. She was so excited! She would now be able to try the formula out on herself. Then find a suitable father for her child.

She planned the next part of her experiment, and put the fertile male rat with another female. Nothing came of it. It seemed that Yulia had been right, that the formula for a male only worked once. The magic she had used to create that potion was difficult and very precise. In the rat's case, and those of regular humans, she had to create a reproductive system with the alchemy and magic. In the case of a witcher, the magical aspect was supposed to reverse the damage done by the mutagens, effectively resetting him for a specific amount of time. The mutagens would adapt, thereby causing the formula to stop working. It would take a whole new round of research for the same witcher to take another fertility potion. That could take an indeterminate amount of time, if it were even possible at all. If things went as planned, witchers could now be fathers, if only once. A sorceress could conceivably have more than one child, but she had a lot of testing to do before she could make that determination.

Keira realized, after another month had passed, that she had lost interest in the project. The thought of having to find another person to make her child with made her ill. She had chosen the one man she wanted to father her baby. There ever _was_ only one man in her heart, and she had had him at her side and let him go. There would never be someone as perfect for her as Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarcie.

She went into the beautiful nursery she had set up and sat in the rocker. She would never sit here and rock their baby, lay them in that gorgeous crib, play with them and teach them the wonders of being alive. The little girl or boy she had named that night in Arinbjorn would never be conceived, never be born. This devastated her, but she had no more tears left to cry.

As she sat there, alone and grieving, she made a decision. Geralt was still alive, out there somewhere.

 _I have to find you, Geralt_ , she suddenly thought. _I have to find you and tell you that I love you more than life itself, that there is no one else in my heart and never has been! I need to tell you that I don't care if you only stay for a week, a month, a year. I would rather have you for a short time than not at all._

* * *

Keira dressed in her absolute finest outfit, hitched Faris up to her most opulent carriage, and set off for the royal palace. She no longer had an interest in politics, and had never asked to attend court. But Empress Cirilla might have the information she needed to find Geralt. It was a long shot, as he had told her he hadn't been to see his adopted daughter, but perhaps he had now, or she knew of some places he would travel to.

Keira and Ciri didn't know one another that well, but well enough that the Empress had accepted her request for an audience immediately.

She was led through the twisting maze of hallways, not to the usual audience hall but to the Empress' private sitting rooms. She sat and waited while servants poured tea and brought teacakes and sandwiches. Her multiple layers of clothing made it rather toasty but she couldn't very well remove anything but her hat and gloves.

"Keira!"

She turned and saw Ciri, a huge smile on her face. The young lady was still every bit as beautiful as she always had been, but now there was a finesse to her that wasn't there before. Her hair was neatly done up, her dress immaculate. She hugged Keira tightly.

"I'm so happy you have come to visit me! Yennefer was with me for a few months not long ago, but she went off looking for some artefact. I haven't had a single visitor here, and when I heard that you chose our city to make your home I was so happy! I just didn't want to send you a summons and make you nervous. Are you happy here? Is there anything you want or need?"

Keira's nervousness dissipated. Ciri was still Ciri, enthusiastic and lively, no longer haunted by fear or regret. Life at court might not have been Geralt's choice for her but she seemed to have acclimated to it very well.

"I'm doing very well, and don't need anything. How are _you_ holding up here?" asked Keira. "Do you and Emhyr get along?"

"It was awkward at first to say the least, but we've come to know one another now. We'll never be as close as Geralt and I were but it's not a negative relationship. I'm not unhappy here although sometimes it's boring. There are some courtiers my age and we've struck up a friendship. It's just hard for people, me being who I am. They'll always treat me differently."

"I can well imagine," said Keira, sipping her tea.

"So Keira, I have a feeling this isn't a purely social visit, we never got to know each other that well."

"It is, and it isn't. I'm here about Geralt."

Ciri's eyes widened. "Geralt! Is he alright?"

Keira sighed, and began telling her everything. By the end her eyes were full of tears and so were Ciri's.

"I had no idea!" exclaimed the Empress. "You know, he talked about someone whose name he never mentioned. I knew about Triss and her entanglement with him, and who doesn't know about him and Yennefer but there was always another person. I wonder if it was you. I'm so sorry Keira! Geralt can be very difficult to decipher sometimes. Even when you know him very well there are times he's just so vague about things."

"I need to find him, Cirilla. Can you remember anything at all about places or people he might go to? I'm leaving for Novigrad and Dandelion tomorrow. I can't live out my days never having told him how I feel. It doesn't even matter anymore if he wants me or not, I need him to know."

Ciri closed her eyes and did her best to remember, but nothing special came to mind.

"Dandelion is his best friend, well aside from his brothers he is the best one to ask about Geralt. I so want you to find him and conceive your child! What a remarkable discovery, will you put it on the market?"

Keira shook her head. "I don't want anyone to know about it. There are too many unknown factors. I did it for myself, but I know that if it actually does work that people deserve to know about it. Just please, Cirilla, don't share this information with anyone at this point."

The Empress crossed her heart. "I promise, Keira. Will you join me for the evening meal?"

Keira wanted to go home and prepare for her journey the following day. She felt disheartened and sad, but could hardly refuse the Empress. So she stayed, and had a nice enough time, even though Geralt was at the top of her mind the entire evening.

* * *

Dandelion gave her a sympathetic smile when she arrived. "I'm glad you came to visit me, Keira. I really am sorry you and Geralt had a fight."

Keira was puzzled. "Fight? We didn't have any fight, Dandelion. Geralt decided he was bored of me and wanted to leave. That's what he's always done. But I need to find him. Has he been here?"

"Geralt was here about a month ago. He said that you told him you had changed and no longer had feelings for him. He was pretty upset."

"I in no way said that! Why do men only hear what they want to hear? My actual words were _people change. Time marches on and it changes all of us. It makes us see things differently, makes us re-evaluate what it is we really want."_

Dandelion scratched his head. "Uhhh...well...it sounds to _me_ like you were telling him you didn't love him anymore!"

She sat down in the closest chair. "For one thing, I have never told him I loved him in the first place. He was always in love with someone else in all our time together. As for what I said, it means that I'm not happy accepting the scraps of love he tosses me in between his love affairs. It means that I don't want to be just another fling, but his lover, for all time."

"Oh boy, women are complicated. How come you can't just say exactly what you mean? Why didn't you just come out and tell him you are crazy in love with him?"

Keira looked up at him tearfully. "I just told you why! Because he's hurt me time after time, giving me his affections then running away chasing someone else. I just don't want to be hurt anymore. But I've decided that I would rather just tell him and have him for a short time then no time at all."

Dandelion hugged her. He had seen the pain in Geralt's eyes, and now he saw it in Keira's. Both of them were so much in love with the other, and neither of them knew how to talk about it.

"If he had only taken the poetry and sonnet route I suggested, you would have known his feelings right away! He never listens to me!"

Keira wiped her eyes. "What do you mean I would have known his feelings?"

" _He_ never told you he loved _you_?"

"Geralt? Love me? Dandelion, we've been friends forever and he's never wanted me for his lover. I've always been there for him and he's played me and abandoned me time after time."

It was Dandelion's turn to collapse in his chair. "This is getting very messy now," he said, shaking his head. "Keira, I shouldn't be telling you any of this. Because you know I always end up saying the wrong thing. Then Geralt gets pissed off at me and everyone has a bad time!"

"I've been having a bad time over this for years," Keira said softly.

Finally with an exaggerated huff, Dandelion caved in.

"He told me he fell in love with you years ago. He hadn't even seen you in a very long while, but told me that he would never forget the time you did have, how you eased his mind and his spirit, how every day when Yennefer would be a...well you know what...he would go to you and you would make him feel good again. You did all this without bedding him. That is like...impossible."

Keira's tears crept down her cheeks. "Why didn't he tell me then? Why didn't he say a damn word all that time that I was hurting so badly over him?"

"It was that weird spell, Keira. I'm sure he told you about the Djinn and Yennefer..."

She nodded.

"Well it stopped him from being able to do anything intimate with another person, I mean involving his heart. He couldn't say certain things. Sure he could do physical acts, but he _loved_ you. He didn't want to treat you like a whore, but he couldn't commit to you because of that damn spell. It ate him up inside all these years. When he came here after you guys found each other again, I'd never seen him that way! He was like a teenage boy! It was wonderful! Then last month...it was like the reverse. He was so dark, like a light had gone out inside him."

Keira felt deflated. "Do you know where he went?"

"Is that why you came here? To look for him?"

She nodded. "So did he say anything about his plans?"

"He never talks about witcher stuff with me. He knows all that killing and such makes me twitch. I'm a pacifist! I don't believe in fighting, I believe in loving!" Dandelion gave her his over the top smile, but she didn't react. Her entire demeanor was one of deep heartbreak.

"I need to find him Dandelion. I don't know how, but I have to. I'm like you I hate fighting...I can't manage out there on my own, will you come with me? Please?"

"Me?" he asked bewildered. "Oh I have this fine establishment to run! It would come down around our ears if I left it unattended! I know you see this fine physique and feel quite safe using it as a shield, but as I said I'm a lover not a fighter!"

Just then Zoltan came wandering over. He saw Keira's teary face and clucked in sympathy.

"What has happened to you lass? Last I saw you, you and Geralt were off for adventure!"

"I've messed things up Zoltan," said Keira. "Now he's gone and I need to find him, and Dandelion here won't come with me."

Zoltan gave Dandelion a hard stare. "You willna help a lady in distress? Shame on you boy!"

Dandelion gestured helplessly but Zoltan waved him away. "Ahh go play with your hats and songs you fop," he said. "I'll talk to the lady. She needs a man right now."

Dandelion threw up his hands and flounced off, both relieved and disappointed to be let off the hook.

Zoltan hopped up on a chair beside her, his dwarven legs dangling. "Now what is this about Geralt?"

Keira took a deep breath and began her tale.

 


	25. A Bitter Pill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keira and Zoltan's search comes up fruitless, and a discouraged sorceress returns home to a big surprise!

* * *

Zoltan and Keira picked a direction and rode off that very afternoon. He had told her in no uncertain terms that her fine wardrobe would have to go, that she would attract far too much attention from bandits and highwaymen. She argued that she was extremely powerful and they wouldn't stand a chance against her, but the dwarf reminded her that she needed to keep a low profile. Using her powers against monsters would be a given, as he was not a witcher and not capable of drawn out battles against them, but using magical attacks against humans was not a good idea. There was still enough hostility towards mages out there despite Ciri's hard work at changing that notion. Reluctantly, Keira had agreed and purchased the most dowdy and boring outfits she could find. Then Zoltan made her return half of them.

"We canna load down the horses with frivolity!" he had said. "Food and essentials only."

"Well what on earth will I do after I have a bath? I cannot wear dirty clothing!"

Zoltan had laughed. "You wash it silly lass! Wear one, wash one, it's fairly simple. And as for bathin' I hope you like rivers for that is all we'll get, if we're lucky, crossin' some of the places we might."

Keira was horrified. No bathing? No fresh clothing? Sleeping in the dirt with bugs and fates knew what else? But she loved Geralt and needed to find him, before it was too late. Before something terrible happened to him, or he decided to find Yennefer again. She shuddered visibly at that thought. Zoltan had patted her shoulder.

"It's not so bad. You'll see."

Zoltan led the way on a short stocky pony that reminded her of the ones from an Skellige that Geralt had given to the children. They started with the nearby villages, asking if anyone matching the witcher's description had been seen. The first day they had no leads. Keira wondered if they were going in the right direction after all. After coming up fruitless by the end of the second day, she debated turning back and trying another direction.

She put a protective bubble around yet another campsite and curled up near the fire. It was cold and uncomfortable and she wanted to use her glamors but Zoltan forbade it. He gave in on the bubble but anything else would be too much.

A man and his son, walking with a goat cart came by and asked if they could warm themselves by the fire. They offered some dried beef sticks as a trade.

Keira hoped she would be able to forget how much she enjoyed that beef stick.

"Where are you headed?" the man asked them.

"Looking for someone," answered Zoltan.

The man looked at Keira thoughtfully. "So that's the way of it," he said. "He take your virtue and run off aye? Left ye with a little one?"

"What?" Keira scowled at him. "Absolutely not! I'm looking for a witcher."

The man nodded. "Ah alright then. Seen us one of those over east a ways. Dangerous lookin' feller, eyes like a viper and snow white hair!"

Keira's eyes lit up. "That's him! How long ago was that, and did you hear where he was going?"

"Milady, "said the man as kindly as he could. "I steer well clear of types like that. Me and my boy we make an honest livin' and stay away from trouble. Witchers and monsters, they aren't for the likes of us."

They were able to tell her which village it was, and that was better than no leads at all.

Keira slipped a few coins into the man's pocket when he was asleep.

* * *

The village in question was a fair size, and she saw right away that the notice board had no monster contracts available. Geralt had taken them all and dealt with them. She went up to each villager she saw and asked after him, describing him. All of them knew that a witcher had been present, and had handled their problems, but they hadn't talked to him and most certainly didn't know where he had gone.

It was a little girl who gave Keira her next lead. She tugged on her coat.

"Miss, your witcher helped me. He got my puppy back from the ghost. He was real nice to me."

Keira crouched down. "Did you talk to him at all? Did you ask him any questions?"

The child nodded. "I asked him why he looked so sad. He said that monsters stealing puppies made him feel that way."

"Was that all?"

"He told me that the ghost was gone and that no one would steal my puppy now."

Keira sighed. "Did you see which way he went?"

The little girl pointed and said "He wanted to go fishing and see the fishing village there."

Keira stood up and looked over at Zoltan. "Is there a fishing village in that direction?"

He nodded. "Aye, a small one. Let's go talk to them."

* * *

Everyone that Keira talked to could give a direction but nothing further. Had she actually expected that Geralt would detail his plans to complete strangers? The man barely spoke to anyone he knew and not at all to someone he didn't save the scantest of details.

She tried but couldn't acclimate to the constant travel, the sketchy Inns, the occasional battles with monsters and bandits. Zoltan took care of most of it, and where possible she assisted. He needed her help with the more horrific things, and although she hated it, Keira felt good being able to do something.

"Zoltan, are we ever going to find him this way?" she asked one evening as they sat around a fire.

"Hard to say lass. But it's the only way we got."

"He could be anywhere by now."

"Aye he could. Could have gone back to Dandelion too."

She was quiet as her mind went over all the things she and Geralt had talked about. Nothing stood out to her. Witchers never had a map. They just went with the wind.

"Do you think he could have gone to Kovir?" she asked.

"Well...could be. To that little red haired lass you mean?"

Keira nodded. If he had gone there, she would never catch up with him. If he had gone there to reunite with an old lover...her chances were slim to none. Zoltan caught her pained expression and clucked in sympathy.

"Those two didn't see eye to eye on the bigger things. He never wanted a life at court and seems that is what all the women in his life have chosen. It's a long way to go for something he didn't want back then. See no reason he would want it now. Geralt isn't fickle. He is predictable. He will kill monsters, not politics."

They traveled the countryside going from one village or town to the next. Sometimes they had a lead, sometimes they didn't. Nothing they did got them any closer.

"Zoltan...I'm done," said Keira with tears in her eyes one morning. "This isn't a life for me. I just...I've no heart to keep going. He's gone. Let's go back to Novigrad. I'll stay a night and go back to Vizima thereafter."

She put her head in her hands and sobbed pitifully. The dwarf tried to comfort her but there was little he could say or do. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but she had no choice.

"I've enjoyed meself," he said. "Gettin' old sitting around a tavern drinkin' and carousin'. Same old same old every day. This was a refreshing change for me. It's been nice to get to know you some, lass. Don't seem so scary to me neither. All that talk of sorceresses being dangerous women and all."

"I'm not like the others," said Keira softly.

"I see that. And that is why Geralt loves you so."

"Loved. Past tense, Zoltan."

The dwarf shook his head and patted her hand. "Nay me girl. Loves. A love like I saw in his eyes when he looked at you doesn't fade with the mornin' light. It's a torch that will burn until he dies."

* * *

It was twilight when Keira and Faris returned to Vizima. She sat on him outside her home for a moment, feeling disconnected from everything. Her stable boy rushed forward to take Faris, but she sent him off. She wanted to take care of the horse herself. It would give her something to do, to try and clear her mind. She tried to decide whether to put him in a stall for the night or leave him in the paddock. Considering that he had been tied up most of the time they had been on the road, she elected to give him the freedom of his paddock. As she opened the gate to let him in, a neigh resounded from somewhere in the dark, as night had fallen. Faris' head came up and he half reared and gave a loud call himself. Thundering hoof beats made the ground quiver as a shape came forward.

Keira's heart very nearly stopped.

Roach!

Had Geralt come back? Had he actually returned to her?

She turned and dashed into the house

 


	26. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keira wastes no time in telling Geralt exactly how she feels about him.

* * *

Davram saw her dash inside in a flurry and nodded respectfully. “Can I help you, milady?”

"Davram, is Geralt here?" she cried.

The servant nodded. "Somewhere I am sure. I gave him his dinner not long ago."

She ran for the library calling his name, then the sitting room, the kitchen and dining hall. It was the first time Keira felt that her house was just too large.

Running upstairs she checked the nursery, and her own bedchamber. No trace of him in there, then she turned to leave.

Geralt stood in the doorway, his face impassive and unreadable. "Dandelion said you needed me to come here right away. Wouldn't tell me why. You alright?"

She didn't utter a word but ran at him and threw herself into his arms. He caught her and stumbled backwards against the wall.

"Ok. Not what I was expecting at all!" he said with surprise.

She planted kisses all over his face. "I love you Geralt!" she cried. "I love you with all my heart!"

He was still holding tightly to her, her feet dangling above the ground as she held onto his neck. Gently, he put her down, took her face in his hands and kissed her. She returned his kiss with enthusiasm, then looked into his eyes.

"I don't care if you only stay with me a short time, Geralt. Maybe I'm stupid for allowing myself to be hurt again, but I don't care anymore. It's been eating me up inside not ever telling you how I truly feel, how I've been in love with you from the day I fell out of that window!"

She stroked his hair back from his face and stood on her toes to reach his lips.

"Keira..." said Geralt. "I would never intentionally hurt you. Don't you know that?"

"Intentional or not, it happened. All those years of you and I spending time together, waiting for you to choose me, all the while watching you choose everyone else _but_ me. When I met you after all those years, the old feelings came back. I was so afraid to offer you my heart again. I was terrified you would just run off and leave me once more."

Geralt looked devastated. "Is that what it was? That why you turned me away?"

She nodded. "Yes. But I would rather have you for a short time then not at all! I was so scared you'd gone forever, we searched for a month!"

His eyes widened. "You searched for me? Who was with you?"

"Zoltan. Dandelion was too afraid to come with me!"

Geralt shook his head in disbelief. "When I returned to Novigrad, Dandelion said I needed to come here immediately. Said you needed me and to hurry. Thought something terrible had happened. Davram had nothing to say so I've been here 3 days waiting."

"Geralt, I couldn't do it anymore. Each day learning nothing of your whereabouts. It was breaking my heart. I truly believed I'd never see you again."

He stroked her hair gently then pulled her into an embrace. "Even if you didn't see _me_ , I would have seen _you_. I'd never have been too far away for too long."

He led her to her bedchamber and sat down on a very plushy armchair by the fireplace, pulling her onto his lap. Making the sign for Igni, the logs sprang to life with a warm fire.

"Every day since we met," he said softly. "I've wanted to be with you. Yeah I did something stupid with that Djinn. Made my life a living hell. You made it better. I could have bedded you many times over and I know you wouldn't have objected. But I wanted to give you more. The spell made that impossible. So I gave you what I could and hoped you would get it. Now I know all it did was hurt you. I'm sorry. You mean everything to me. Always have. Always will. I love you, Keira."

She put her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder, her lips against his neck.

"I've no right to ask you to change your life to suit me," she said. "And I can't live the life of a witcher. What sort of future can we have together Geralt?" she asked somewhat sadly.

"Your little world here is not so bad," he said with a smile. "Nice beds, warm food. A man can get used to that."

"You would trade your wild existence for a quiet one with me here?"

He nodded. "Sometimes I'll need to go. It's who I am, and what I do, Keira. People need me. But I'll always come back. You put a collar on this old dog and he will find his way home."

"Maybe I could come with you, sometimes, like with an Skellige."

"Would like that very much," he said. "Best do it now though. Before we start a family."

Her eyes lit up. "You still want to do that?"

"Mmhm. More than ever now."

She hugged him tight. She traced over his eyebrows and around his eyes. He touched her lips with a finger.

"Keira, I can't believe you went out there looking for me."

"Because you didn't think I loved you?"

Geralt kissed her tenderly. "No..because I know how much you loathe the outdoors. Makes me realize how deep your love must be."

She lay her head on his shoulder again. "Geralt, do you know how terrible it was to see you choose everyone else but me? I tried so hard to get your loving attention for so long and couldn't imagine what it was I was not doing to earn it. To find out now that you were actually treating me with more love and respect than anyone else, makes me wish I could go back in time knowing that. It would have saved me so much heartache, truly."

He squeezed and rocked her. "Love you so much."

He stood up, still cradling her. "Come have a bath with me. Smell like the wilds."

She gave a soft laugh. "You know I love baths!"

Keira touched her dress and it slowly vanished, leaving her completely naked. She applied her considerable magic to the tub, filling it with water that was instantly prepared. She turned to Geralt, removing his clothing with a magical touch, and his scarred body came into view. She stepped close to him and placed her hands on his chest, and he placed his on her waist and pulled her close.

There was no denying he was excited and pressed against her. They kissed in a sensual play of lips and tongues, motivated not by lust but by a deep and abiding love. Keira reached down and squeezed his member eliciting a moan from Geralt. She stroked him gently but firmly for a bit before returning her hand to rake through his hair. She was completely enthralled by this man, _her_ man.

Geralt stroked her back, squeezing her buttocks then gripping her waist and holding her tightly. His hand wandered to her thigh, then to the tuft of hair between her legs. He tenderly opened her folds, and slid one finger between her inner lips, seeking her opening. She was wet and hot and he had no trouble feeling inside her. He knew to look for the rough spot inside that would make her quiver with pleasure. As he did that, his thumb pressed on her firm hard nub, massaging it.

Keira thought she would drown in her desire for him. He knew exactly how to touch her, to kiss her, to make her feel alive. The emotion of the moment took over, making them crave the contact even more.

Geralt stepped back and took her hand, leading her to the intricately carved copper tub, where the water was fragrant and hot and steaming. He stepped in and sat down, leaning against the back. Keira straddled him, her own hot core pressed against his shaft. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, her tongue seeking his. Geralt shifted himself until his member was resting at her entrance.

"Make love to me, Geralt," she said between kisses. "I love you."

His hands were on her hips and he pushed her down onto him. She felt every inch of him as he slid all the way inside her. It was never difficult for Geralt to please his lover. He knew exactly what to do. He was generously sized, and reached deep into her body. Moving slowly inside her, he brought his hand down and touched her where they were joined, making her cry out with pleasure. She held onto the sides of the tub and arched her back as he buried himself as deep as possible.

"I never forgot how good you felt," rasped Geralt, barely able to speak. He stopped for a moment and opened his eyes, looking at the woman he loved with all his heart. "I'll never leave you, Keira," he whispered against her lips as he kissed her. "Promise."

Slowly and gently he began to move inside her again, and she matched his rhythm, each stroke building the tension inside them both. There was so much longing, so much desire and so much passion that when they released they did so close together, her spasms throwing him over the edge into his own powerful release.

Keira collapsed on Geralt's chest, the water moving around them. Both of their hearts were racing from the exertion, the pleasure and the heat.

She disengaged and turned around, sitting between his legs, leaning back on him. He caressed her arms and her breasts, moving down her body to the place between her legs he had just vacated, then over her thighs.

"You know, Geralt, I've dreamed of this for so many years. I truly never believed it would come to pass," said Keira softly.

"When you left Kaer Morhen with Lambert, I had to go outside and vent my frustration. Lots of monsters died. Was sure you were gone for good. Just couldn't understand why _Lambert_ of all people."

Keira laughed. "I didn't care who it was. I wanted out of there as fast as possible. I would have gone alone if I had to."

"Really didn't know what was going to happen. Didn't send you there with a motive. Sent you there so you'd be safe."

"I know that _now_ , Geralt. At the time however, I was very angry with you for putting me in such a position."

Geralt wrapped his arms around her. "You saved my brother's life. Owe you thanks for that."

She smiled, turning around and planting a kiss on his jaw. "I'd say you have paid that debt in full my love."

"I like that," he said.

She kissed him again. "This?"

"Hearing you call me that. Your love."

"Geralt, you _are_ my love."

He smiled softly. "And you are mine."

 


	27. You're Her Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keira convinces Geralt that it's time to put the past behind him and visit Empress Cirilla at the palace.

* * *

They slept away the morning very easily. Keira awoke with her head on Geralt's chest, her arm and one leg draped across him as if to keep him from escaping. He was already awake, gently stroking her arm with one hand while the other was behind his head.

"Good morning, my love," she said sleepily and stretched. Tilting her head up she met his eyes, which were large and the expression soft. There was so much love emanating from his face that she was captivated, unable to move or speak. He touched her cheek, then tilted her chin up so he could place a tender kiss on her lips.

"You're' beautiful when you sleep," he whispered.

She ran a hand through her hair and bumped into more than one tangle.

"Yuck Geralt! I have a bird's nest on my head and you find me beautiful. Witchers must be soft in the head."

"Definitely soft in the heart," he grinned.

Keira turned onto her back. Geralt raised himself on one elbow and looked at her. She was naked, and perfect. Her skin was pale and soft with no scars to mar it.

He rested his hand on her lower abdomen above the little tuft of hair that was just a few shades darker than the ones on her head.

"What were those names again?" he asked. "For our baby."

She turned to him, a large smile on her face. It took his breath away.

"Avelina Keira Christina Visenna or Korin Atherton Geralt," said Keira, her eyes sparkling.

Geralt leaned down and kissed her tenderly. "I've got another one for you," he whispered. "How does Keira Christina Roslyn Fae du Haute-Bellegarcie sound?"

Keira's eyes widened as she understood what he meant. "Are you asking, or telling?" she questioned, barely above a whisper.

"I'm asking, Keira," he responded equally softly. "Asking you to consider it carefully. Don't answer me now. Think about it."

"Oh, Geralt!" she cried and threw her arms around his neck. She already knew her answer, but he was right. Their relationship would never be conventional, and she needed to be very sure and think it through. But hopefully there would a baby in the future and they would be a family. Unconventional or not, their child would be raised by both parents.

They had planned to get out of bed and do something with their day, but when their lips met and their bodies awoke, Keira and Geralt found themselves making love well past the noonday chime and into the late afternoon.

* * *

Keira held on to Roach's mane and Geralt held onto her as they galloped down the shoreline. He was a strong rider, and had no trouble keeping himself balanced. Keira needed the mane since Roach was a much stockier horse and was more of a bumpy ride than her elegant Faris. She shrieked with glee as the horse stretched his neck out and ran for all he was worth. The salt air smelled good to all of them and it was refreshing. The sorceress had not given it a second thought when Geralt had called to her from outside, and seeing him astride Roach with no saddle, holding his hand out to her, she let him pull her aboard. She had told him once she would not ride with him like a commoner, but those things didn't matter anymore. What mattered was being with him, enjoying him, in every way possible.

They waded into the surf and slid off the horse, letting him trot back out onto the sand to roll. They stood in chest deep water and Keira wrapped her legs around Geralt's waist and he held her to him, kissing her deeply. They told each other they loved countless times a day, and Geralt proved to be far more affectionate than she had ever known him to be. Because she returned his affections, he was completely unfettered in showering her with even more.

They sat in the shallow water, the waves lapping around them.

"You never told me if you finished the experiments," said Geralt.

"I had a lot of help from Yulia but yes Geralt, I have completed my research and have a viable product to use. I am not confident in its abilities to be shared, but as far as our situation is concerned I feel safe with it."

"So it won't kill me?" he asked half jokingly.

"I have no idea," she responded quite honestly. "It didn't kill the male rats. But you are a human, and a witcher at that. There is no way for me to know what will happen. I can tell you what it is designed to do however."

He waited to hear it.

"It will reset you to what your body should have been without mutations. However, the mutations will adapt and negate the effects. How long that will take I have no idea. It might be hours, it might be days. In any case you will not have access to your witcher abilities. You need to know that before we even consider it."

Geralt nodded. "I've never been concerned with the details," he said. "Just want to give you a child, if you're still interested."

Keira splashed him with a grin. "Of course I am! The question to be asked is when."

Geralt shrugged. "Whenever you want. Talked about traveling some," he reminded her. "Can't do that if you're pregnant."

"Then we should seek out the adventurous wilds!" she cried, waving an invisible sword around and laughing. Geralt grinned at her and she blew him a kiss.

"Geralt, before we go off again there is something I need to tell you."

"Mmhm, I'm listening."

"It's about Cirilla."

Geralt shook his head. "Don't want to talk about her."

"You aren't going to. _I'm_ talking, _you're_ listening. I went to see her before I left to search for you. Do you know that only Yennefer has come to visit in all these years? And she had left at the time we saw her in Arinbjorn. Cirilla is isolated by her title and she misses you terribly. I know that you didn't agree with her taking up Emhyr's mantle, but she's doing a fine job and you should be proud, Geralt. I'd like us to go and visit her before we set off."

Geralt said nothing. Keira could feel the unhappiness radiating from him.

"The longer you avoid seeing her, the stranger and harder it will be, until you have completely lost one another. Does she deserve to be abandoned by the man she considers a father? The man who raised her to be the wonderful woman she's become? In many ways she's still just a child, Geralt, wondering why those she loves have turned away from her."

He sighed heavily. "You're right. It hurt me. I ran away."

He got up and began to walk down the beach. Keira followed him and took his hand, Roach ambled along behind them. Geralt squeezed her hand and sighed deeply.

"She never told me of her plans. Not a single word. Led me to believe we would be traveling together, doing witcher's work. Had a sword crafted for her. On that last day we were out in White Orchard. Hunted a bit, laughed, talked. Felt we really connected again. I was happier than I'd been in a long while. Looked forward to the future. Then we came up to the village. Whole slew of Nilfgaardians hanging around. Then she tells me they're there to escort her to the palace. It all comes out. She gives me back the sword, and all these words are being said, and I can't hear a thing. All I can do is feel this crushing pain. Then she's walking away from me, and all those people are bowing to her. She rides away from me without looking back. Stood there til my feet froze and my face was numb. Haven't seen her since."

His eyes were filled with sadness and disappointment. Ciri had been his whole world. She was everything he had, and she had walked away from him. It made her decision seem so selfish, but Keira knew better. Ciri had chosen to sacrifice her own happiness and inadvertently Geralt's for a greater good. She was the right hand Emhyr needed. She was the voice of the people. They loved her, they listened to her and she listened to them. Ciri didn't deserve to be abandoned for her choice.

"We'll go together. You'll be very proud, I promise you. Cirilla will be a better Empress if her heart is whole, Geralt. Just as you will be a better witcher. Love makes us stronger."

Geralt squeezed her hand.

She squeezed his in return.

 


	28. My Daughter The Empress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Keira pay a visit to Empress Cirilla.

* * *

There was no denying that Geralt of Rivia, slayer of monsters, was scared of a little visit to the Empress, the young lady he had raised since childhood and triumphed over the darkness with. As Keira had told him, the longer he put it off the harder it got. In his mind it was already awkward and hard to begin with. Of course it didn't help that he had to wear a doublet and other uncomfortable accouterments.

"Don't know how Dandelion does it," he said, squirming.

Keira laughed and straightened a few bits and pieces on him. "It's all in what you are used to. Now I need to find you a suitable hat."

She choked back a laugh at the sight of his face when he heard that.

"Oh no. _No._ Drawing the line at hats. I'll tie my hair back but that's all. Ciri will have to deal with it."

He backed away slowly.

Keira had to sit down, she was laughing so hard.

"You don't have to wear one! I would never put you through that. Your hair is wonderful as it is. In fact I wouldn't have even forced you to wear the doublet. The thing is, Geralt, court is all about appearances. You aren't arriving as a witcher on a job. You are visiting the Empress. The point is to not make anyone feel uncomfortable, especially Cirilla. Showing up with your swords strapped to your back is hardly a comforting gesture."

Geralt looked at her with appreciation. Not only did she look stunningly beautiful, but she had a sharp mind as well. Of course, Keira had been raised to be a courtier to begin with. She knew how it worked. He took her in his arms and kissed her slowly.

"Geralt, if we start this again we will never leave the house."

"This is bad how?" he responded, kissing her jaw and neck.

"Let's go and see Cirilla. Then when we come home I will let you do anything you wish to me."

Geralt cocked an eyebrow at her and gave her a lopsided grin. "Anything?"

"Yes!" she laughed, taking his hand and leading him away. "Anything at all."

* * *

Geralt was unable to relax in the sitting room they were led to by Mererid, the chamberlain of the palace. As always, Keira had sent an audience request and had it granted immediately. She did not tell Ciri that she was bringing Geralt with her. The witcher hadn't asked about any of the details. He just knew he was wearing an overpriced and ridiculous looking outfit that would have made Dandelion proud. However, the upside to it was the way Keira looked at him with appreciation and made it worth the suffering.

She had convinced him to take a bite of a small square of cake when the door opened. Relieved, he put the strange fancy thing back down on the tray.

Empress Cirilla took one look at Geralt and her finely crafted composure dropped. She ran into his arms as she had when she was a little girl. Tears flowed from her eyes as she hugged him and kissed his cheek.

"You've come! Oh Geralt, I've missed you so!"

He held her at arm's length and tilted his head this way and that. "Hmm, it seems little Ciri has cleaned up a bit!"

"Only when I have to!" she cried and hugged him again.

She turned to Keira, then looked at Geralt. "So...are you two..."

Geralt nodded. "We're together, yes."

Ciri squealed and hugged him yet again. "I need to ask you now then. Those talks we had, when you would mention a "her" and a "she" and never gave me any names, was it Keira you were talking about?"

Geralt nodded slowly. "It was. I've always loved Keira. Just couldn't do anything about it for a long time."

Ciri smiled. "All that nonsense with the Djinn. You know Yennefer was here with me for quite awhile?"

Geralt finally sat down. "Keira told me. Saw her in Arinbjorn. No idea why."

"Oh she was chasing some object of power," said Ciri. "I have no interest in such things, and she seemed very bored here. There are many mages of one kind or another at court, and she didn't feel she belonged."

Geralt exhaled sharply. "Not the center of attention. That troubles her. She tried to get me to come here with her. Didn't like that I was with Keira."

Ciri smiled. "Yennefer is Yennefer. I love her dearly but she'll never change. Ambition is her main driving force, everything else is secondary. Have you seen Lambert or Eskel?" Ciri was careful not to bring up Triss in front of Keira. She didn't want to make the sorceress uncomfortable and there was no need. Kovir was far away land and there would not have been any need to communicate with Geralt for any reason. Their paths had split a long time ago.

"Yes, we saw Lambert in Novigrad when we returned from an Skellige," said Keira. "He said he was heading for Lan Exeter. As for Eskel none of us have seen or heard from him since Kaer Morhen. He was devastated by Vesemir's death and told us he wouldn't return."

Ciri's eyes darkened a moment. "If only Vesemir..." then she cut off the thought. There was no need to bring up the deep sorrow that had affected them all so much. It would always be a deep pain inside her, no matter how many people Ciri helped, how many lives she saved, there would always be that one precious life she couldn't help.

Geralt gave her hand a quick squeeze. "He'd be proud of what you 've done. I know I am."

She smiled at him gratefully. "I know my decision to take Emhyr's place hurt you deeply. It was selfish of me to keep it to myself so that I could have fun with you instead. But Geralt it wasn't that great for me, knowing what was to come and knowing how it would affect you. My selfishness hurt me also. Can you ever forgive me? I just want to be your Ciri for always, not the Empress, not a magical construct."

Geralt embraced her. She was still as vulnerable as a child, despite the heavy burden she had taken on.

"Nothing to forgive. We all make our choices. You will always be my Ciri."

She looked up at him as a child admires a doting father.

"So...are you and Keira going to have a baby? Will I be an Aunt?"

Keira laughed. "One day, yes! But we actually came here to tell you we're going traveling for a bit."

"You are? To where?" Ciri's eyes were bright and interested.

"We don't know. Geralt is in need of some excitement. We can't let his skills get too rusty can we?"

Ciri laughed. "So it's a matter of wanderlust then. I wish I could go with you. When I travel it's with a huge retinue. Despite what people may think about being a ruler, there's no freedom involved. There are always those who are opposed to your rule and want to do you harm."

" _You_ are hardly a princess in a tower," said Geralt.

"True, but it doesn't change the fact I have to be guarded when I leave the palace for any reason." She sighed heavily, a wistful look in her eyes. "This was the best choice, but not the happiest one for me."

Geralt knew that her decision would haunt her. It was part of why it hurt him so bad. He had spent many years trying to protect her, to guard her from any pain and sorrow. Every parent wants to do that for their child. But that child grows up with ideas of their own and even when you know it won't come to a happy ending, you have to step back and allow them their wings. Cirilla, his little Swallow, had flown off in the opposite direction he would have chosen for her.

"I understand," he said to her simply. "Could come and spar with you if you wanted. I know it's not the same as being out there with the monsters, but it might give you something to do every now and then."

Ciri's smile brightened considerably. "Would you? I'd be so grateful! We could train in the arena, or better yet, somewhere on the grounds. No one will bother us there!"

"Consider it done. Let me know when. No fancy schedule to keep on my end."

Keira stood up. "Cirilla, do you think someone would show me to your library? I've heard that yours is the finest in the land, and perhaps I could borrow a book or two when we return? This will give you two a chance to catch up alone. I know there must be some father-daughter things you wish to discuss."

She smiled at them.

"You don't need to go, Keira. There's really nothing that can't be said with you here."

"Perhaps, but I truly do wish to visit your library and I know Geralt has no interest in such things."

Ciri called for an attendant to escort Keira to the Great Library. The sorceress gave Geralt a quick kiss before leaving, and Ciri grinned as she watched the love struck expression on his face as he watched her leave.

"You truly love her, don't you," she stated.

"I do," answered Geralt. "Loved her since we met. Just didn't know how much until time went on."

"I'm glad you have someone in your life. I was terribly worried about you when I didn't hear from you at all. The life of a witcher isn't a safe and secure one. Anything can happen out there, Geralt. It's comforting to know that you and Keira have each other."

He turned to her. "Ciri, I've asked Keira to marry me. Asked her to consider it at least. Thought you should know."

Ciri grinned widely. "Did she say yes? She will!"

"Didn't want an answer right away. We aren't a normal couple. Needs to be considered."

"I've never heard you talk this way! In all our years together I've never seen such happy contentment coming from you. I'm thrilled Geralt, with everything. With Keira, with the baby you plan to have, your proposal...everything is right in your world. It'll make it easier for me to do what I need to do knowing you're alright."

Geralt nodded. "That's what Keira said."

He opened up and told her how he had felt, withdrawing from the situation after Ciri had left him that day in White Orchard. He told her about the communication problems he and Keira had had, rather the lack of communication. How he had left and how she had searched for him.

They talked about everything and anything until Keira returned.

"It would take a long time to explore this place," said the sorceress. "The library is indescribable. I also saw the baths, the pools, the stables, the sparring grounds...there's so much here to enjoy!"

Ciri laughed. "I haven't the time to enjoy it. The courtiers do, however. When visiting dignitaries arrive they're enthralled by the palace as well. You know you and Geralt are welcome any time to enjoy anything I have here. You live so near to me, I expect to see you more often Keira. Geralt and I will be setting up some training dates. There isn't anything stopping you from coming along. In fact I insist on it."

Keira smiled. "I don't know how long Geralt wants to be away. I'm leaving it entirely up to him. But when we do return, I at least shall accept your offer."

Geralt picked at his doublet. "Next time I'll be coming with a purpose. Will get to dress normally."

"You look charming like this Geralt," said Ciri. "And I like the longer hair on you."

His lips tugged up at the corners in a small smile. "Been hearing that. Makes me wonder how bad I looked before."

"You never looked bad to me," said Keira. Even with a beard that hadn't seen a comb in weeks."

Geralt stroked his smooth chin. "Beards are itchy, but warm."

"Well we aren't going to the mountains. Are we?" Keira looked concerned.

"No. Plenty to do elsewhere."

She looked at Geralt. "Well my love, I'm sure that Cirilla has a lot to do, though I'm sure she would rather be doing something more fun. Shall we go? Or would you like to stay longer?"

Ciri smiled. Keira spoke to Geralt with love and respect, allowing him to decide what he wanted to do. It had never been that way with Yennefer. She had commanded, and he had no choice but to obey. Such was the curse of a Djinn's wishes. You always thought you were getting what you wanted when truly you were not. They had a way of granting your wishes without actually giving you what truly wanted. And he had been collared to that situation for over 20 years.

"We should go," he said and also stood. "But we _will_ be back."

Ciri nodded and embraced them both in turn. "Look after each other out there," she said. "I do expect to hear the stories when you return. I shall see you out."

There was the chamberlain, a ladies' maid and two guards with them as they walked along the palace corridors. When they reached the main hall, with the chequered floor and large pillars, all the courtiers present, guards and servants bowed or curtsied low. Ciri nodded to them as she passed.

Geralt, holding Keira's hand, shook his head. His little girl, the precocious, smart assed little warrior was an Empress.

Strange how life could turn out sometimes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have written the adventure that Keira and Geralt had while they were out on the road, but instead of adding it to The Wolf and the Rose, I decided to upload it as a separate short story. It's called "Maledictus" and will be uploaded soon.


	29. School Of The Wolf, Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt shares an idea he has with Keira, but is met with much resistance. Later, he visits with Ciri and discusses it with her. Emhyr makes an appearance, and says something about Keira that bothers Geralt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation of Caoilte: KWEEL-tee

Geralt and Keira returned home from their adventures on the road, ready to plan their life together. It was sometimes a bit challenging, as each of them had very strong ideas of what they wanted. But their love had been hard won, and neither allowed their stubborn side to win. Geralt expressed his delight that Keira was willing to follow him around the wilds so he could take on a contract or two. With a smile she would kiss him and say _sometimes._

"What are you thinking about, Geralt?" Keira asked him. She was arranging some flowers in a vase and he was sitting staring out into space. She had noticed him doing that an awful lot lately.

"Kaer Morhen," he replied.

"Why on earth would you be thinking about _that_ dismal place?"

"Wasn't always dismal, Keira," he said. "Was my home for a long time. Lots of memories there. Can't help but wonder how run down it is now."

"I'm sure wild animals have made it their home, and possibly some bandit camps in there too. I do wish your brothers had decided to keep with the routine."

"Memories be too tough for Eskel. Lambert always hated the place. Perfect excuse for him to vanish."

Keira started on the next flower arrangement. "Lambert isn't a bad fellow," she said. "He can just be so cold and harsh sometimes. I know he often doesn't mean it but there is such a deep unhappiness in him that won't allow his true self to emerge."

"Sounds like Lambert," said Geralt.

"Once while we were on the road together, sitting by the fire, he put his arm around my shoulders. I sensed such a loneliness from him, so I leaned on him. Lambert kissed my head and then suddenly he pushed me away, got up and went to his tent and I didn't see him again until morning. He refused to look me in the eyes after that and all he said was something about sorceresses using people. That angered me and I tried to get him to explain himself but he didn't want to hear anything more about it. That was right before we parted ways. He just ...shut himself off from me. I must admit Geralt, it hurt."

Geralt shook his head. "He's got some serious issues. Needs to work them out. Wasn't personal Keira, Lambert just can't get close to anyone. Unlike Eskel who wants a connection, Lambert wants to shut out the world. Hates himself for feeling anything."

"I hope he sorts that out in time. No one should be alone. I hope he's doing alright up north."

"Hes capable enough," said Geralt. "Not the same anymore, all of us wintering at the keep though. Been on my mind a lot lately."

She leaned against the table and faced him. "Why all this melancholia, Geralt? Have you been cooped up on this estate for too long? Do you need out, my white wolf?"

"Keira," he said. "Been thinking about what it would take to bring Kaer Morhen back to life."

Her eyes widened and she looked at him in complete surprise. "You told me the secrets of the School of the Wolf are long gone, that all of it was lost in the massacre all those years ago!"

He nodded. "It is. Not thinking about creating witchers. Thinking about making it a different kind of place. Place to train warriors."

She frowned. "Warriors? Whyever for?"

"So far as I know there are no new witchers being raised. Ones on the Path won't live forever. Even if a battle doesn't take us, eventually old age will. Who'll fight the monsters then? World will always need protecting."

"There are soldiers and military might," she said.

He shook his head. "Keira, soldiers fight each other. Not trained in combat against monsters."

"So you're thinking to go live up there in the middle of nowhere, and teach little boys to fight monsters, is that it? Have you lost your mind, Geralt? I understand the need for you to take contracts and run around like a wild thing every now and then but what you're proposing is an entire life changing venue!"

Her eyes were narrowed and her chest was tightening up. Here was that old Geralt again, the one who couldn't stay in one place, who had a deep wanderlust inside him. But this was far more than mere wanderlust. He had been thinking about a place so far away from Vizima, a place in tatters, that would require more than just a passing fancy. He had asked her to marry him. She couldn't be his wife and raise their child in that forsaken horror of a place! Had she been wrong to trust him, that he was ready to settle down? She turned away quickly and fiddled with her flowers.

Geralt's senses immediately picked up on her distress. "Hey, Keira," he said gently, and went to her, turning and holding her. "Not going anywhere. Just thinking. Feeling like this world needs something like Kaer Morhen. Doesn't mean I'm going to do it myself."

"What about our family, Geralt? Do you still want to have a child with me?"

"Of course I do. Just waiting for you to decide when."

"When you talk about things like this I get so very afraid!"

He stroked her back. "Things like what? Helping the world? I'll always be a witcher. That'll never change."

"I know that," she said. "But when you talk about far off places like Kaer Morhen, and fixing it up, I can't help but think you won't be here to be a father for our child, and a husband to me. I can't live in that ruin, Geralt. I just won't do it!"

He held her tightly to him. How could he make her see that what he was thinking about was a good thing, a great thing!

"I wanted to give you your answer Geralt," she said softly. She looked up into his face.

"My answer?" he asked, confused.

"You asked me if I wanted to marry you, and my answer is yes!"

Geralt smiled and lifted her off the ground for a moment. "I love you," he said simply.

"I love you too," she responded, kissing him. "Now no more talk of depressing places."

* * *

The Empress Cirilla waited until her attendants had left the room, then threw herself into Geralt's arms.

"You've come back!" she cried. "I thought you'd forgotten about our arrangement."

"Didn't forget. Just came back not long ago. Had to settle in."

"Where did you go? How is Keira?"

Geralt smiled and sat down. "We went all over. She's doing well but won't ever be like us."

"I suppose not. Keira is a city girl," said Ciri smiling. "Heard anything from your brothers yet?"

Geralt shook his head. "No. Don't suppose I will either."

"That _is_ too bad," she said sadly. “I know how much you enjoyed wintering at Kaer Morhen.”

Geralt looked into the chalice on the table to see what was inside it. Most likely a very expensive wine. He took a sip. He was right.

"Ciri, that's partly why I've come today. Ask you about Kaer Morhen. Been doing a lot of thinking."

"Oh? About what?"

"I want to get it fixed up. Turn it into a training academy for warriors."

Her eyes went large. "For real? You aren't going to be creating witchers are you?!"

He shook his head. "We can't make witchers the way we were made. Protocols are all lost. Good thing too. But we can sure as hell train them like we did you. There are a lot of people out there that would want to learn how to fight monsters. The world still needs us Ciri. Those of us on the Path won't live forever and then what?"

She nodded in agreement. "This is very exciting Geralt, I can't believe you are thinking of doing this! I want to help, will you let me?"

He smiled. "That's why I came here to see how you felt about it. See what you thought of the idea."

"I love the idea! Will you have magic as well? As in sorceresses and sorcerers? Alchemists? Perhaps you can find an alchemist who can find a way to make potions that will help your new warriors, similar to the ones you take but...well not deadly to them!"

Ciri was alive with excitement. She stood up and began pacing the room. "I'll have my architects speak with you, then I will find the best craftsmen and builders to see to the construction. And designers! I have plenty of those lounging around court!"

Geralt watched her with amusement. He had expected her to be happy about his idea but she was simply ecstatic. Kaer Morhen held many happy memories for Ciri. She had been there with the only people she ever accepted as her family.

"Do you think Triss and Yennefer will come?" she asked, then immediately regretted it when she saw the expression on his face.

"Triss has a life in Kovir," he said. "She may come to visit but not to stay. Yennefer...she will never accept my marriage to Keira. Won't put Keira through putting up with her either."

Ciri gave him a huge smile. "Has she said yes then?"

He nodded and she hugged him. "Congratulations, that's wonderful! Oh I'm sure she will be planning it as a grand social event. Geralt of Rivia to wed the inventor of the Catriona plague cure!"

Geralt held up his hands. "Slow down, Ciri. One thing at a time. Let's concentrate on Kaer Morhen. I need to convince Keira about this idea first. She wasn't thrilled with me when I mentioned it earlier. Refuses to go back there."

“You'll have to work on that, Geralt. She can't be left in the dark on this forever.”

Ciri stood up and went to the door. She spoke to someone outside then returned. "I shall allow you to meet the architect. You and he will do the drawings, the concepts of what you want to do."

Geralt nodded and they talked for a few more minutes until a man came into the room and bowed low. "Your eminence," he said. "You called for me?"

Ciri nodded. "I would like you to meet Geralt of Rivia. He has need of an architect of your caliber for a grand project of his. Geralt, this is Caoilte."

"It would be my honor," said the man, bowing to Geralt respectfully. He led the way to a table and lay down his sketchbook.

Ciri sat down at another table and began to write missives. She rolled them up and sealed them, then gave them to one of her attendants to deliver. Then she joined Geralt and the architect.

Suddenly the door opened and two honor guards stepped into the room. Behind them strode Emhyr var Emries. The architect bowed low, but Geralt didn't move.

The Emperor went to his daughter and kissed her on the cheek. "I have missed you, Cirilla," he said. Seeing Geralt he raised an eyebrow. "I did not expect to see _you_ here, witcher. I trust you are well and I see as disrespectful as always?"

Geralt nodded. "I am," he responded. He would never bow to any man.

"My _daughter_ did not let me know we would be having such an important visitor. Quite the oversight, Cirilla," he said chidingly.

"It was unannounced your majesty," she said. Ciri saw the darkness flit across Geralt's face for a moment and she felt awful. He had loved her and raised her and saw her as his child. Emhyr knew this and always made sure Geralt didn't forget who her real father was. No matter that the witcher had returned her to him and refused a single coin for the task. He had done it to give Ciri a chance to choose her life path with every available option. Geralt never thought she would choose to return to the Nilfgaardian court. It would be a scar on his heart for the rest of his life, and one that Emhyr var Emries didn't mind tormenting him over whenever he had a chance.

"And what brings you here then, Geralt of Rivia?" asked Emhyr.

"He has hired the architect for a project of his," said Ciri. "He wanted the best and so he shall have it."

Emhyr raised an eyebrow at her. "I trust that the Empire is not footing the bill for this, Cirilla?"

Ciri linked her arm with his and turned him away, back towards the door. "Of course not, father!" she said too sweetly.

"Is killing monsters such a lucrative business these days, that a mere witcher can afford the fee of the empirical architect?"

Ciri laughed lightly. "Of course not. You were not aware that our Geralt is betrothed to the lady Keira Metz?"

"You don't say!" said Emhyr, genuinely surprised. "Our most illustrious citizen could have any nobleman in the land, not to mention the Emperor himself and she lowers her standards to this? She has taken too many of her own potions I dare say."

Ciri guided him to the door. "You know that love simply happens, father. We can't always choose who we fall in love with. They'd been friends for longer than I've been alive. Now please let me enjoy my visit. I shall speak with you later, yes?"

Emhyr patted her cheek. "As you wish, my daughter. You know I deny you nothing."

The Emperor, followed by his honor guard, swept out of the room. Geralt had to suppress a laugh as he saw Ciri make a face at the door. Then she regained her composure and turned back to the two men.

"Caoilte," she said to the architect. "Please leave us for now."

The man bowed and left the room.

Ciri collapsed on the couch and kicked her feet in a makeshift tantrum. "I'm so sorry Geralt, Emhyr infuriates me sometimes! He can be so insufferable!"

"Don't like him myself," answered Geralt. "What was all that about?"

She waved dismissively. "It was him being a blustering old fool as usual. It's nothing for you to concern yourself with. Caoilte is paid by me and always will be. You will not spend a single coin of your own on this project, Geralt. Emhyr has no sense of his own holdings. The first thing he did was give over all of that nasty accounting to me. As long as he has his wine and women, he could care less what happens in the Empire anymore."

She stood up, unruffled her dress and went to Geralt, embracing him. "I _am_ sorry you had to hear me call him father. It distracts him well enough and he leaves me alone to do as I please. He's a small man, despite his many titles."

"I understand," said Geralt. "But what was that about Keira?"

Ciri shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. You might want to ask her about that. It isn't anything he ever talked to me about but I know that he had met with her a few times when she first moved here."

"I'll ask her," he said. "But I should go. Need to talk to Keira. I'll take these drawings with me. Work on them a bit. Be back in a few days, talk to Caoilte again. Do some training with you."

Ciri kissed him on the cheek. "I look forward to it!" she said with a smile and led him to the door.

 


	30. Most Illustrious Citizen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keira explains Emhyr's cryptic comment, and explains to Geralt what the conception ritual will entail.

* * *

Geralt hid the drawings from Keira. He was too enamored with the idea, and wanted more to show her before broaching the subject again. There was still so much that needed to be designed and then the actual building plans needed to be created. Caoilte was an incredible visionary. He had learned the trade at his grandfather and father's knee, and was now well into his 60's. His gift for realizing someone's desires was well known. If not for Ciri, there would have been no way for Geralt to afford his services.

He and Keira sat down to dinner, next to one another at the long main dining hall table. He often wondered why she didn't choose to eat in the kitchen or the breakfast nook which was smaller and more intimate. Having the footmen and maids waiting on them bothered him sometimes when he wanted to just enjoy a meal between the two of them. But Keira was Keira and she had to have things a certain way. However, he asked that the servants be omitted this once. Keira agreed, to make him happy.

"Went to see Ciri today," he said.

"Oh? And how is Cirilla doing?" she asked.

"Good. Emhyr came in while we were talking. Don't like him any more now than I did before. Always tries to remind me that he is Ciri's father and I'm not."

Keira sighed sadly. "I know it isn't much of a comfort Geralt, and it isn't to say I mean this as a replacement for Ciri, but you'll have a child of your own soon. Regardless...she's still your daughter, blood isn't everything."

He gave her an appreciative nod. "Emhyr mentioned you in passing."

Keira looked up at him sharply. "And what did he say?"

"I believe his words were _our most illustrious citizen could have any nobleman in the land, not to mention the Emperor himself and she lowers her standards to this?_ " Geralt looked at her. "What did he mean by that?"

Keira took a large bite of food to avoid having to respond to the question, but Geralt wasn't one to let go. "Keira? What did Emhyr mean by that?"

Keira swallowed her mouthful, took a drink of wine and sat back. "It's really nothing, Geralt, you mustn't get worked up about that man."

"So there _is_ something you haven't told me. Come on Keira."

She sighed. "Fine. But it has nothing to do with you or I at this point."

He had fully expected her to turn off and refuse to speak of it. Yennefer would have done exactly that. Clam up and not say another word, become angry with him, make him feel guilty for having upset her, and expect him to apologize for his errant behavior. He could see that Keira was uncomfortable, yet she was willing to share whatever it was with him. He knew what he didn't want to hear, but now he had opened up that can of worms and would have to deal with it.

"When I first moved here," she began. "I received a summons to the royal audience. Of course I was rather surprised, I thought that perhaps Ciri had asked after me but as we didn't truly know one another at all I found it highly unlikely. Of course, I went and was brought to Emhyr himself. He asked me if I knew that he had given amnesty to the Lodge of Sorceresses. I said I did. He then proceeded to ask me if I was still a part of that organization. I told him that I was not any longer and had no interest in its revival. He then asked if I would consider a position as his magical advisor. This surprised me greatly as I know he is not fond of magic users in any way."

"Mmhm," said Geralt, his expression intense.

"Again I had to tell him I was not interested in life at court, that I had other interests at present time. He seemed rather dismayed, but dismissed me without much else. I thought no more of it until he summoned me again about a week later. This time he asked me to join him for dinner. I agreed, thinking that it would be a court affair with Ciri and all of the high nobles. I was wrong."

Geralt raised his eyebrows.

"He had an entire 5 course meal prepared just for the two of us. It was terribly awkward for me, I had no idea what on earth he wanted from me, I'd told him I was not interested in being a courtier nor taking up any position within the royal court. He was very courteous and attentive and truly I never thought the man had it in him. At the conclusion of the meal, he simply kissed my hand and left, leaving me to be escorted out by the chamberlain. I received another invitation a few days later, and this time he had musicians play for us after the meal, and we shared a dance. Emhyr then asked me if I would consider being his companion, if I didn't wish a position as a courtier to at least accept a position at his side.” Keira sighed deeply and took a long drink of her wine.

“He tried to use Ciri as a bargaining chip but I told him we didn't know much of each other. It was terribly awkward, and I had to tell him that my heart lay elsewhere and I'd rather not confuse the issue. I truly hoped he wouldn't be angry and feed me to his dogs. He actually seemed quite disappointed. I never heard from him again thereafter. So you see? It was nothing but masculine silliness. Now I ask you why he even mentioned me at all and why the comment about my lowered standards? Quite the insult if you ask me!"

Geralt had to smile at that. "Ciri told him we are to be married. I'm not his favorite person."

Keira sat up straighter and tilted her chin up. "I rather think I set my standards impossibly high. Witchers are known for being cold and emotionless husks. To get one to love you is no small feat. So there!"

"Yeah?" asked Geralt, and leaned over, kissing her suddenly and deeply, taking her by surprise. "How's that for emotionless?"

She stared at him, breathless. "Geralt! Really!"

He sat back again and studied her. "You're mine, Keira. I love you. Always loved you."

She laughed and shook her head. "You males are all so competitive. Yes, I'm yours Geralt. Stop worrying over it now. It's all in the past."

They finished their meal in silence, then adjourned to their bedroom. They lounged about in the bath for a while, then crawled into bed.

"Keira, I'm going to train with Ciri tomorrow," he said.

"That's fine, I have some estate matters to handle. I'll be in town for most of the morning. Give my regards to Cirilla if you will. I will come and see her soon."

She positioned herself in his arms, her head on his chest. Her fingers traced around the deep bite that had been taken out of his chest. How terribly painful some of his wounds must have been to leave behind such fearsome scars.

"Geralt, I think I'm ready to discuss our baby now," she said softly.

"You are ready to do this?" he asked, kissing the top of her head.

"Yulia has completed her human trials for me. She has successfully helped 3 young men with my formula, but she is unable to tell me how it will work on witchers. That's what concerns me the most."

"Still worried it'll kill me?"

"No, that it will have no effect on you due to your mutations. We have not had a witcher to test this on."

Geralt nodded. "Have you done any testing on women? For your end of it?" he asked.

"Yes, I have extensively tested myself. I have completely rebalanced my entire internal system. Yulia has helped me with all of it, and I can say with complete confidence that I will be entering my most fertile stage next week. If we are going to do this this month then that is when it should happen. Otherwise I will have to continue charting and we can do it again at a different time next month, or whenever the numbers show the best time."

"Let's do it then," said Geralt.

"Well I should tell you what will happen, Geralt. You might not like the idea after hearing it."

He squeezed her. "Agreed to do this, so I'll do it no matter what. Unless you tell me the potion will turn me into a woman, then maybe I'll change my mind."

She laughed lightly. "No, it won't turn you into a woman. It will, however, reverse your mutations for an unspecified amount of time. I will be performing a magical incantation before hand to essentially hold you in stasis while the potion does it's task.  It's very complicated to describe but suffice it to say it involves time and space.  This process might be fast or slow, but it will not be pleasant as you can imagine. Not only that, once your mutations begin to assert themselves again and adapt, you will essentially be reliving the trial you undertook to mutate you in the first place."

"The Trial of the Grasses....it was nothing short of torture," he said miserably.

"I know, my love," she said softly. "And this is why I'm telling you this so you can decide if you don't wish to go through with it. It might happen after an hour, it might happen after several or even a day. I expect, that since you took to the trials so well, that your mutations will regenerate very quickly. From the moment you ingest the potion and reverse the mutations, we must make love immediately, and continually until you begin to adapt. I must have as much of your seed as I possibly can, and I won't be leaving this bed for at least 24 hours afterwards."

He grinned. "So we will be making love the entire time, no matter how long it takes? If its days?"

"Then we will be at it for days, Geralt. And stop laughing, this isn't really funny at all. You do realize our poor bodies will begin to chafe terribly after the first few times? I've got special potions we can take to dull the pain of that when it happens and to replenish all my lost moisture."

Geralt couldn't help himself. He tried to suppress his laughter but it escaped. "This," he said. "Is every living man's dream come true! Love making for days until we fall apart!"

"Geralt! Be serious!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said, bringing himself under control. "I know it's serious Keira. I'm well aware now what can and will happen. I still want to do this, in fact I look forward to having this baby. It's something I'd written out of my life. There has never been a documented cure found for a witcher. If this works, your fame will be legendary."

"I don't want fame," she said softly. "I've done this to have the one thing I always wanted. It wasn't to make any money or become famous. I don't like the notoriety I've gotten because of the plague cure. Mind you I do enjoy the wealth it brought, I can't lie about that."

Geralt stroked her arm. "How could you not use this to help others like us?" he asked.

"I will, but through Yulia. I want no coin for it. I've more than enough. She can collect the coin for herself, but I don't want any more attention. I just want us to be a family Geralt, you and I and our child."

"I understand Keira," he said softly.

She turned her face up and parted her lips, asking for a kiss. He obliged her, his hands running over her soft, smooth skin. "We need to practice," he said between kisses, and positioned himself between her legs. They made love well into the night and slept until mid morning.

 


	31. The Conception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt suffers through the conception ritual.

* * *

Keira felt that something was going on with Geralt but she kept it to herself. He had been spending an awful lot of time with Ciri, which was a good thing, but there was just something about him that seemed off to her. It concerned her deeply. But she knew that witchers, like sorceresses often had their secrets, and trying to pry would only put him on the defensive and she didn't want that.  Keira was secure in the knowledge that Geralt loved her, and that whatever it was would reveal itself when and if he were ready. _Or I could just have an oversensitive and suspicious mind_ , she thought, and forced herself to put the feeling on the backburner.

"Geralt," she said as they took the horses for a walk down to the shore. "You will always be honest with me about everything, won't you? No matter what?"

"Where's this coming from?" he asked.

"It's something that everyone asks the one they love isn't it? Are you sure you want to go ahead with our plan?"

"Definitely no second thoughts there. Everything's fine Keira."

"You are still willing to proceed with this tonight?"

"Mmhm," he said giving her a glimmer of a smile.

They raced each other across the sand and this time Faris won. Keira was enjoying the last ride she would have for a long time. If she became pregnant as a result of the ritual, there would be no risky activities for her until after their child was born. She was excited and nervous and scared all at once, mostly for Geralt. The worst part was that she would not know for several months if it had worked. There were things she could do to find out earlier but because it was such a tenuous situation, she was afraid to have a false positive. She had been trying to prepare her mind that there was a chance it would still not work. The thought was devastating but it was a reality they both had to face.

Geralt knew she was stressed about it. "Keira, if this doesn't go as planned, I'm not going anywhere. I love you. For life."

"And I love you too. For life," she said smiling.

They ate their dinner quietly, the servants in attendance as always. Then they had their bath as they always did, but didn't get dressed.

Keira picked up a vial from her dressing table. The liquid within it looked black but on closer examination it was a dark purple.

"Well Geralt here it is. The culmination of my life's work."

He took it from her. Her eyes stung with tears suddenly. "Thank you for doing this with me," she said.

He cupped her face and kissed her. She wiped away her tears and picked up another vial with a green liquid. Taking out the stopper she drank it quickly.

"What's that one for?" he asked her.

"Just something that changes my body chemistry to make it more friendly for your fluids," she said. "Hmm that is a rather yucky description, isn't it."

He looked at the vial in his hand, then at her. "So...should I do this now?"

She nodded and stepped back, calling out words of magic. There was a heaviness in the room for a moment then a strange hissing sound. the air itself seemed to rippled around them, shimmering as though they were in a huge bubble.  Keira lay her hand on Geralt's chest as he removed the stopper. He looked into her eyes for a moment then quickly drank the liquid. He made a face.

"Fates Keira, couldn't make it taste decent at least?"

"I'm sorry my love, palatability wasn't high on my list! How do you feel? Come sit on the bed with me."

He walked over and sat down on it. "Fine so far. Witcher potions actually react immediately. Was expecting a violent reaction right out of the vial."

She pulled him down, and he repositioned himself so he lay with his head in her lap. They sat that way for awhile, with Keira stroking Geralt's hair gently. "Still feeling alright?" she asked.

He sat up. "Just feeling a bit hot. Need to cool off."

He got up and walked around the room but suddenly stopped. "Keira," he said. She got up and moved towards him when Geralt suddenly doubled over.

"Shit!" he cried. "Argh!"

He fell to his knees, clutching his abdomen with one arm and his chest with the other. A horrible, wailing moan escaped from him and Keira was at his side trying to provide some comfort. He pushed her aside and tried to get up but every muscle in his body was cramping and felt like it was turning him inside out. He gritted his teeth and fell to the ground, eyes squeezed shut, writhing in agony. Keira watched helplessly, unable to do anything to help him. She had figured it would be traumatic but this was beyond what she expected. Was the potion killing him? Was the man she loved dying right before her eyes?

"Geralt," she whispered sorrowfully. "I'm sorry my love!"

Tears were leaking from his eyes as well as he crawled around on the floor trying to find some relief from the pain.

Then she saw it.

The scars on his back were slowly fading.

His silver hair began to darken until it was almost black. Keira went to him and knelt down as he slowly managed to sit up. She lay a hand gently on his back. "Geralt?" she asked softly.

He turned and looked up at her and his amber cat's eyes were gone, replaced by soft hazel human ones. The cruel, jagged scar across his face was gone.  It was like he had become a different person, the man he would have been had he not undergone the mutations. The lines around his eyes softened and faded as well. Keira got her hand mirror and held it out for him.

"Look at you," she whispered.

He stared, amazed. "Wouldn't have turned out too badly," he mused.

Getting to his feet, the pain ebbing away, he reached out for Keira. Taking her in his arms he kissed her deeply, then picked her up and carried her to the bed. He immediately felt the loss of his strength. She was an actual weight in his arms whereas with his mutations it was as though she weighed next to nothing.

"How do humans live with this weakness?" he asked.

She laughed softly.  "It's all what you're used to."

He lay her down gently, knowing that they might not have that much time before the mutations asserted themselves again. Geralt was not looking forward to that, but until then, they had to get busy.

"I love you," he said, lying beside her and pulling her leg over his hip.

"I love you too," she whispered.

He wasted no time in entering her. She was ready for him and accepted him easily, as always. Geralt wanted to make love to her the way he usually did, spending his time pleasing her, but she was more interested in his release.

"You need to let go," he said. "I read that it helps with conception."

"I've never heard that," she whispered. "I don't know how much time we have, Geralt, so I want to do this as much as possible."

"Keira, I can't rush this. We're creating a life. Needs to be done with love and care."

She couldn't argue the point. He was right.

She allowed him to spend some time bringing her to the edge and releasing her, which she did with a cry and clung onto him, her whole body twitching with pleasure.

He kissed her deeply and she returned his kiss with fierce abandon. He knew her concerns, but wanted her to enjoy this time they spent together.

"It'll be fine," he said gently, moving inside her. It didn't take him long before he released, filling her with his seed.

"Yes, Geralt, that's what I need!" she cried.

For 6 hours they made love, resting in between. He was tired, and didn't feel that he had anything left to give her. She was hurting inside and desperately wanted to stop but she couldn't, and downed potion after potion to ease the pain. To her it was worth the suffering to conceive their child.

He kissed her deeply, ready to enter her again, when he suddenly stopped.

“Geralt? What is it? What's wrong?”

He gasped as a sharp pain lanced through his body. He fell over beside her, his body shaking as spider webs of razor sharp pain radiated out from his center. His breaths became labored and shallow, and he screamed out and clutched his head as white hot needles of agony pierced his skull. He flung himself away from Keira, moaning into the blankets while his fists clenched them, knuckles white.

Geralt rolled onto his back as Keira watched in helpless horror. He was gasping, each breath like fire in his lungs and he couldn't seem to draw enough air. A wrenching, stabbing in his chest and a sudden tightening of all his back muscles made him arch his back, until only his head and feet were touching the bed. He let out a strangled cry then froze in silence as his heart and lungs stopped. One second, two, three...finally breath exploded back into his body and he crashed down. There was a moment of clarity in his eyes as the pain in his body subsided, but the mutations weren't done with him yet.

Every bone in his body ached and he twisted, feeling as though all of them were going to simultaneously snap. His breathing became short and shallow again and Keira saw his skin begin to twitch and ripple across his back. Geralt cried out again, every inch of his skin felt as though it were aflame. Before her eyes, Keira saw his skin tear open, wounds flashing fresh and red for a moment before becoming the old, faded scars she knew so well.

The reassertion was far worse than she had imagined it would be more intense than the initial reversal. Her strong witcher was left like a whimpering puppy in her arms. As he stared at her wide eyed, his hazel eyes began to change back to the amber, the pupils elongating and constricting, and his hair slowly lightened back to silver.

Geralt felt like he had when he endured the Trial of the Grasses the first time. It was a memory he had shelved away hoping to never revisit.  Having your insides liquified and recreated once in a lifetime had been enough. While he had believed Keira's description of what would happen during the conception ritual, part of him believed it could never be as horrible as the original time.  He had been wrong.

The blood in his veins seemed to have been replaced first by liquid fire, than by ice. His heart beat erratically making him cough, and his ribs felt like each had been broken in half. He writhed for what felt like hours when in truth it was mere minutes.

As the pain finally began to slowly fade, he felt Keira holding him tightly, and he sat up and put his arms around her. She stroked his hair and his back gently, soothingly.

"I'm so sorry Geralt," she murmured. "I knew it would be hard on you but this was worse than I'd imagined!"

He lay quietly, his eyes closed. Despite the return of his mutations, he felt as weak as a new born lamb.  All he wanted to do was pass out for a week. Instead, he did so for a few hours. Keira lay in his arms and slept also, and when they awoke she kept telling him how sorry she was.

He soothed her. "It's over now. We did what we could. Our baby could be starting his or her journey right now. Nice thought."

"It is," she said. "It'll be so hard to wait to find out."

"You really staying in bed for a day?" he asked.

"Yes, I need to just lie here."

"I'll take care of you," he said softly. "Or should I say both of you?"

"Please don't get too excited Geralt, it may not have worked, and it would be best not to get too attached to the idea just yet."

"Can't help it. This is unprecedented. You need to rest now. Go to sleep."

He didn't need to convince her. It only took a few minutes for Keira to fall asleep again, and although he stayed awake listening to her breathing for a bit, thinking about what they had just done, he soon followed suit.

 


	32. Fashion By Geralt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt picks Keira's outfit for the day.

* * *

Keira went about her regular business after spending just over a day in her bed. She didn't like not being able to bathe for that length of time, and when she finally emerged it was the first thing she did. Geralt had looked after her, making sure she got all her meals and was entertained.

"How are you feeling?" Geralt asked her.

"Fine, I was rather sore inside for a while but it's better now," she answered. "How have you been? No lasting effects from the potion?"

Geralt stretched out beside her and gave her a kiss. "Nothing that I've noticed. Waiting will be hard."

Keira sighed. "It will be. The soonest I'll know will be around 7 weeks. I suppose we should just do whatever we usually do and the time will come eventually. I'm just ...scared, Geralt. I've wanted this so much, for so long. If it doesn't work out then I'm not sure what I'll do."

He held her. "Don't get upset at me for saying this, but you could always find someone else to give you a child, someone who isn't a witcher anyway."

Keira shook her head. "No, Geralt. If this doesn't work, then I have to let it go. I'm not going to randomly choose someone for this. I know it's how I did it in the past, but that was before you and I got together, and at this point I just couldn't do it."

"I love you," he said. "No matter what happens, I'm not going anywhere. Like I said before."

"I'm so glad to hear it. I wouldn't trade you for the world my love. Now, I've promised Ciri that I would come for a visit, and I haven't kept that promise. Perhaps you and I should both go see her today. I don't suppose we need to make a formal request to see _your_ daughter."

"You want to tell her about this?" he asked.

"Oh no, we really shouldn't say anything until we know for sure either way. It's far too premature to speak of it now."

Geralt lay his hand on her belly and was quiet for awhile. Keira knew that he had gotten caught up in the idea of their child. Her excitement about it had infected him as well, and it worried her how he would feel if things didn't work out. He had lived his entire life believing that he could never sire a child. Now everything had changed, and despite how badly she had wanted to be a mother, now she wanted it even more for him.

"I can lie here with you all day. Get nothing done." Geralt dragged himself away from her with a tender kiss and sought out his clothing.

"Pick something out for me to wear," said Keira.

"You trust me to dress you?" he asked.

"Not in the slightest but I'm curious what you will choose!"

Geralt wandered into her massive walk-in closet. "You want a hat too?" he asked.

"Only if you want me to wear one today," she answered.

"If you want fashion tips ask Lambert next time you see him."

"What? Lambert?" she laughed at the thought. “I hardly think dressing up as a woman a few times qualifies him as a fashion expert!”

"You'd think so. He's got a thing about it."

“Well than the woman who falls in love with him will be entertained at the very least! The more stories I hear about the three of you, the stranger it gets!"

"Oh and ask Eskel about the succubus," said Geralt.

Keira laughed. "A succubus? I wonder if all witchers are so weird or if it's just the wolf brothers! Have you picked anything out for me yet?"

"Keira," said Geralt. "This closet is the size of a shop. Give me time."

She got up and went to her dressing table to put on her small clothes, then sat down and brushed her hair.

"I'm rather beautiful," she said matter-of-factly.

Geralt emerged from the closet with an armful of fabric. "Yes you are," he said.

Dumping his acquisition on the bed he resumed searching for his own clothing.

"Geralt, show me what you picked!"

"Let me get dressed first."

When he was done and had his hair tied back and felt ready enough to face the world, he held up her dress. It was a white one with layers of skirt in soft pinks and floral patterns. There was a wide sash of pale pink ribbon at the waist, and he had found the bonnet to match it. The soft pastel colors complimented Keira's pale golden hair and green eyes. Geralt watched her in appreciation as she got dressed.

"I like it," he said.

"You definitely chose well," she responded, impressed. "This dress is one of my favorites. I had it made the first week I lived here. The seamstress and her staff came and we spent hours choosing fabrics and styles."

She set the bonnet on her head and twirled around. "Do you like it on me?"

Geralt caught her and pulled her to him, kissing her. "Love it on you. Put the Emperor's court to shame."

"Oh Geralt! You always were a smooth talker!"

He looked into her eyes. "Just got dressed. Thinking of undressing now..."

She laughed. "We can do that when we get back!"

"Promise?"

"Have I ever lied to you?" she smiled and winked at him.

 


	33. Rebuilding The Keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciri doesn't agree with Geralt keeping his project from Keira, but Geralt feels secure that he can bring her around. Ciri asks him for a favor in regards to a former Lodge member.

* * *

Ciri was delighted to see them as always and visited with them both for a little while before asking Keira if she wanted to see the extensive laboratories that were a part of the palace. Keira was excited by that and Ciri opened the door to summon her an escort, but to their surprise, Emhyr entered the room from the back.

He looked at Keira and his eyes strayed over her. She immediately dropped into a curtsey, but beside her, Geralt stood stock still.

The Emperor took her hand and kissed it. "The enchanting Keira Metz graces our humble halls. Tell me my dear, have you come to tell me you have changed your mind about my proposition? Such a beautiful and talented woman deserves only the finest."

Keira could feel Geralt seething beside her. She linked her arm with his.

"Your majesty flatters me too much. I am betrothed to Geralt of Rivia, I am sure Cirilla told you?"

He gave Geralt a cold and appraising glance. "Yes, she had mentioned it. That one of your renown should choose to marry so far beneath her station is an abomination unto the Empire. What heirs can you possibly beget with... _him?"_ His emphasis on the last word was delivered with scathing disdain. "Their kind is sterile and with good reason. However, what is done is done. I cannot give you my blessing as this union is a travesty to the Empire."

Ciri stepped forward. "Father!" she cried. "You _must_ give Keira and Geralt your blessing! She's a good and loyal subject and deserves nothing less. She's done nothing but good for our people. If you care for her then you must do this. Remember also that Geralt brought me home to you. Without him, I would not be here and you would be alone!"

He patted Ciri's cheek with a deep sigh. "The young Empress is wise beyond her years. As you wish, my daughter," he said.

He lifted both Keira's and Geralt's hands and placed them together. He did not look at Geralt but at Keira.

"The Empire blesses this union. May you have many... _years_ together in good health and success."

With that said, he turned away and headed for the door. He stopped and looked at Ciri. "I wish to speak with you once your visit is concluded, Cirilla. In my private audience chamber, if you please."

"Yes, your majesty," said Ciri.

"As if all that shit means a damn thing," grumbled Geralt. "Wish I never set foot in this place."

Ciri hugged him. "I know, and I'm sorry. I have to play his paltry games sometimes and it irks me deeply but it's part of my job, you might say. Emhyr thrives on adoration and attention. It's a thorn in his side that you're the one person who refuses to show obedience, but cannot be punished because Emhyr is beholden to you because of me. And I remind him often of it. He knows I love _you_ and not him, Geralt. It makes him irritable."

An attendant bowed herself into the room. "I can take your guest to the laboratory now, if you wish, your majesty," she said.

Keira was glad to leave and forget about that awkward meeting. Poor Geralt. She had felt his anger and his loathing. She knew he regretted deeply having ever brought Ciri to the palace, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

Geralt and Ciri sat down, and before long, Caoilte joined them. The architect brought with him incredibly detailed drawings of Kaer Morhen, some that he had done, others that he had found in the archives. He presented his vision for the small town that would be built around it, and a list of all the craftsmen he personally endorsed to handle the reconstruction. All three of them felt that it would be best to keep all the design work the same as it had once been and simply restore the keep back to its original design. They went over the training grounds and the stable and livestock area. Then Caoilte excused himself to continue on the plans.

"Geralt," said Ciri. "Do you think it's fair to go ahead with this before speaking with Keira? I know she was against the idea originally but she really should know what we're planning to do!"

Geralt opened up Caoilte's sketch book. "See this here? This is the first section that I want done. Has to be right away. This will be our home when we're there."

Ciri looked at the sketches. It showed a suite, a large and luxurious area that had every creature comfort in it. There was even a little section that acted as a nursery. There was a terraced garden and a balcony as well.

"Oh Geralt you are walking on thin ice," said Ciri. "This is truly beautiful but you're taking a large risk in doing this before she agrees."

"I know Keira. I know what she likes, what she hates, what drives her."

Ciri looked at the page with the nursery. "You want your child to be born there don't you," she asked softly. "That's what this project means to you doesn't it! You don't want to raise them in the city, but there where you were raised and where you raised me!"

Geralt almost smiled. "It feels right," he said.

"It _is_ a lovely thought, but you _really_ need to make sure Keira agrees to it. She loves Vizima and I'm sure she's planning to raise your child here. Geralt...you can't ignore this."

"She'll agree. Need to get this section underway." He tapped on the paper.

Ciri gave him a worried look. "Well it will take me a bit of time to organize the builders, and next week there are traveling dignitaries Emhyr and I must entertain. I won't be able to do anything with it until they've left. I also can't portal everyone there, they'll need to travel on foot and by horseback. That's the best I can do, I'm sorry Geralt."

He nodded. "That's fine. Like to go there and check it out before the crews arrive. Can you portal us there?" He cringed at his own words.

She nodded. "Yes, once everything is organized we can take a pre-emptive look around."

Geralt looked pleased. "I have a good feeling about this project. Really glad you are in this with me."

"Have you thought about what Eskel and Lambert will think of it? Do you think that maybe you should speak to them too?"

Geralt thought about it. "Don't know where they are. Witchers aren't like the Lodge who have those megascopes to talk. We see each other when we see each other. Both of them made their feelings clear that they won't be returning. I'm moving forward. "

"Putting it back together is only one part of your project Geralt. You are talking about creating a whole new academy up there. That will change the feel of the keep dramatically."

Geralt leafed through the sketchbook again. "That's the end goal Ciri. Want to see it fixed up, do some training there myself first. No point in starting up anything else until the baby comes."

Ciri's gaze snapped to him. "Is Keira pregnant?" she asked, her eyes large.

Geralt grinned then looked away.

"Geralt!" cried Ciri, hugging him. "Congratulations! That's a miracle! A witcher and a sorceress conceiving!"

"Hold on, hold on," he said. "Don't know for sure yet. Won't know for a few months. Keira is afraid to get too attached to the idea, wants to keep it quiet until we know for sure. So, don't say anything. Get me in trouble if you do."

Ciri was twitching with excitement. "I'm going to have a little brother or sister! It'll be so hard to keep this quiet!"

"Well you have to. Promise me, Ciri! Might not have worked. Really no way to know for awhile. Formula was tested on regular people, not witchers. My mutations might have burned it off."

"I promise not to say a word to anyone. Not that I've anyone to speak to on my private matters."

"You doing ok here?"

"Day to day matters of the Empire keep me busy, but I miss all of you. Some days I wish I could speak to Vesemir and pick his brain. He was always so wise. He understood political games so much better than I do. There are a few courtiers my age and of course I do have the odd Lodge sister that comes around from time to time."

Geralt poured some wine from a flagon into their glasses and tried not to think of his old friend. "Was going to suggest Keira. She's good with all that. Who else comes around...Yennefer?"

Ciri shook her head. "No, not since she left. I don't think she enjoyed it here at all. Do you remember Margarita Laux-Antille?"

Geralt nodded. "Yes she was the one that Yennefer and I freed from Radovid's prison. Ran the academy at Aretuza before it was destroyed."

Ciri looked sad. "All of her students were murdered by that monster. She's still heartbroken and comes here every now and then to use the library or the megascope to speak to the others. She has no interest at all in politics so refused to help Phillipa rebuild the Lodge. I was thinking that maybe, once you do get to the point of starting an academy at Kaer Morhen, perhaps Rita could find a place there?"

Geralt raised his eyebrows. "You think we should put magical training there too?"

"Wouldn't it make sense, if we're training warriors to fight monsters that there might be people with magical inclinations who want to help? I'm not talking only women, but men too. Sorcerers like in days of old. She loved to teach, Geralt. It was her whole life. And it wasn't just that, but Rita genuinely loved her students, they were like her family, her children. You can imagine how tortured she is over what Radovid did. This could be an incredible aspect to Kaer Morhen's new life, don't you think?"

Geralt didn't know _what_ to think. He knew the political machinations of the Lodge and had no interest in allowing it to bleed into his project. Margarita might not be politically inclined but what was to stop the rest of the Lodge from getting involved?

"I don't know, Ciri. Let one sorceress in and what's to stop the rest from invading it? Not interested in taking over the world. Just want to do some training. Keep it simple."

"I understand, Geralt, but just for me, once you have things ready could you at least speak with Rita? Would you do that, and then decide? She is a very kind person with a good heart, truly she is."

"Mmhm. Fine. Not her I'm worried about its the others."

"Rita isn't part of the Lodge anymore, at least not as it once was. There really isn't a Lodge these days, it's a few sorceresses who are still around, scattered over the world, who still speak to one another occasionally. I've heard them talk. It's about magic, not about politics. Thank you Geralt, for at least agreeing to speak to her."

"Long way off. Got lots to work out. I'll take the drawings with me again. Good thing Keira stays out of Roach's bags."

"I'm not going to cover your ass if you get caught Geralt!" said Ciri with a grin.

"Yes you will," he smiled back. "Want to take me to Keira?"

Ciri stood up and led the way. As she crossed through the common area of the palace, people stopped their conversations and activities to bow low.

"Never get used to that," said Geralt. "Seeing people bow to the little kid who used to make faces at me behind my back and run off instead of doing her lessons."

"You knew I made faces at you?" asked Ciri with a giggle.

"Yeah. One time I saw Eskel trying not to laugh and I knew you were up to something behind me."

"I did it often I'm sorry to say. I wanted to train with you but you and Vesemir always made me train on the dummies. I got so angry!"

Geralt chuckled. "We let you train with us too."

"Eskel did. Once I stopped being afraid of him that is. And Lambert let me do all the fun things on the gauntlet. I still remember the first time he let me up there and I got bruised up so badly but didn't want to show him how much it hurt."

"I beat his ass for that one. Didn't talk to me for days after that."

Ciri gave a loud laugh, turning several heads, then remembered herself and recovered.

"Is that so? I never was aware of that. Poor Lambert."

"I trained with you too. We had good times, Ciri."

She took his hand and squeezed it. "Yes we did. We most definitely did. I truly wish I could winter up there again once it's completed but sadly my place is here now."

"Could have been different," said Geralt.

"Yes, but then I wouldn't be in a position to help you now, and do all the other things for the Empire that I've done so far. Isn't that worth something to you, Geralt? I know you would rather have had me at your side, fighting monsters with you, but haven't my accomplishments so far made you proud as well?"

She stopped and turned to him, her eyes conveying a deep sadness. He regretted his words.

"I'm really proud of you Ciri. I talk shit sometimes, I'm sorry. Need to tell you more that you've made all of us proud. I can say for certain that if Vesemir were here he'd be very impressed with all you've done."

Ciri hugged him. "Thank you, Geralt. That means the world to me!"

Keira was talking to an alchemist when Geralt and Ciri walked in.

"This place is indescribable! The ingredients they have, the research they've access to, it's phenomenal! Thank you so much for letting me come here, Cirilla!" said Keira.

"You know you're welcome any time. Our alchemists are here for you should you ever need their help with anything. The archives also are for your perusal. It's my decree that knowledge should be shared and not hoarded by a selected few. Emhyr doesn't agree with me, but he has no say in the matter. What the Empress wants, the Empress gets!" Ciri giggled like a schoolgirl, making Geralt and Keira laugh.

Keira saw the sketchbook Geralt was holding. "What's that?" she asked, reaching for it.

Geralt and Ciri exchanged glances, and the Empress took the book from him. "Oh this is my training schedule Geralt and I have worked out, " she said smoothly.

The alchemist asked Keira a question then and she turned back to him.

"So much for you not covering my ass," whispered Geralt to Ciri.

"You owe me," she whispered back. "I'll hold onto this until you come back."

* * *

"How are you feeling?" asked Geralt when they arrived back home.

"Tired," said Keira.

"Oh?" he looked at her, then picked her up in his arms. "Time for a nap then."

"Geralt, don't be ridiculous. Even sorceresses get tired sometimes."

"Mmhm," he said carrying her up the stairs. "Especially pregnant ones."

"I'm serious Geralt you mustn't get too worked up about this until we know for sure!"

"Too late. Can't hurt to take extra care of you. If you aren't it doesn't harm anything. If I don't and you are, I'll feel bad. Just saving myself the guilt. Self preservation."

Keira put her arms around his neck. "I doubt I'm having any symptoms after a few days, Geralt. But I won't turn down the attention."

"Good," he said and put her down on the bed and watched her magically remove her clothing down to her small clothes. "I'll stick around while you rest. Need to clean up my armor and swords."

Keira curled up on her side and he drew the bed curtains around her, pulling the covers up.

"Thank you Geralt," she said sleepily.

"Mmhm," he answered and went to sit by the window, idly watching Roach welcome Faris back into the paddock as the stable boy led him in.

 


	34. Kaer Morhen Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Ciri visit Kaer Morhen to assess the state of the keep. They reminisce.

* * *

Ciri took Geralt through the hidden passages of the palace to a storage room. "No one needs to know where I'm going. I left strict orders that I'm not to be disturbed today. Emhyr is on his ship and won't be back for a few days. I'll not have him to worry about at least."

The end of winter had given way to spring. Ciri had finally been able to organize a preliminary work party who were awaiting the order to move out. They would have to travel via land. The mountain passage had finally cleared, but a wagon train would never be able to complete the journey. The small village of Briarsford which lay at the base of the mountain was the closest the crews could get by wagon, and it would be a massive undertaking to get the materials and equipment up through the pass. And it was only the first part of Geralt's plan. One section to be completed in the hopes of convincing Keira. Ciri still believed he was taking too big a risk, but he knew her best.

They had decided to go and scout out the keep to see how much damage the years since the battle with the Wild Hunt had caused. Geralt worried that perhaps it would be hard on Ciri to see the place again considering what had happened. He knew she still bore immense guilt over Vesemir's death and nothing anyone could say would change that. He had asked her multiple times if she was sure she wanted to accompany him. He had been clear that if she didn't wish to, he wouldn't think any less of her for it. Each time Ciri had responded that she would be fine and that this was something she wanted to do.

She took his hand. "Ready?" she asked.

"Mmhm," answered Geralt. "Ready as I'll ever be. You know how I feel about portals."

They were both dressed as they would for an excursion into the wilds. Ciri had happily shed her Empress' attire for the outfit of a witcher, complete with sword. She was brimming with excitement, although she knew there would be no fighting involved.

She cast the portal and they went through it, the split second it took seemed like ages to Geralt. Then he smelled the outdoors and heard the chirping of birds. Opening his eyes he looked up towards the soaring towers of Kaer Morhen. They had landed in the courtyard.

The place didn't look any worse for wear from what he could see in regards to the outside. There didn't appear to be any evidence of brigands making camp. The place had a lot of ominous stories attached, and most folk would avoid it like the plague. Add to that the fact that it was in such a remote and hard to reach location, but Geralt knew that the underbelly of society often preferred such locales to create a base camp. Happily he saw that this was not the case.

"Not as bad as I feared," said Geralt. "Memory might have exaggerated how bad the place was."

He walked over towards the stables. "Structures still standing. Need shoring up but not too bad." Part of the roof had caved in slightly, but the beams were still standing tough and strong. He figured they would need another addition depending on how much interest the School ended up generating. He saw the remains of Eskel's goat pen. He looked it over fondly, remembering how much love and care his brother had put into building it. There was even still part of the goat's playground standing. Eskel had been adamant that the goats have a special structure to climb and leap from. No one knew what to make of that until they saw how happy it made the little animals. Geralt missed his brother. Eskel had been the one he had been closest to. He had been the first to welcome the scared little boy the day he had arrived. Eskel had been shy and quiet and wanted to hide from everyone and everything. Geralt had worried that he would not make it through.

“Deep in thought, Geralt?” Ciri's soft voice broke into his thoughts.

“Mmhm. Goat pen. Thinking about Eskel. Remembered when he came. I was 6, he was a year younger. Scared little guy.”

Ciri took his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder. “The two of you were always close as I remember.”

“Thought he wouldn't make it. Came into his own though. Really liked the magic and swordplay. Was Vesemir's prize pupil.” He realized he had brought up his old friend. “Sorry Ciri. Wasn't thinking.”

“It's fine, Geralt. It's good to talk about him. It keeps his memory alive. That's why I was so excited about this project. This was Vesemir's home. He loved this place more than anyone else. It feels right and good to put it back together and use it to help the world. I'm grateful you trusted me with this.”

They stood and explored their own thoughts for a few minutes.

“Let's look around some more,” suggested Geralt.

They found the vegetable garden, overgrown with strange weeds and grasses, all competing for the best of the soil of which there wasn't much. "Remember hating this thing," he said. "Getting garden chores was the worst. Tried to pay off another boy to take my place every time. Edelbert caught me and put me on duty here for a week. Didn't stop me from still trying to get out of it though."

Ciri laughed. “Not into farming?”

“Was training to be a witcher, not a farmer. Got my ass beat for mouthing off about it a few times. Lambert hated it too. Made bombs one day and blew the whole thing up. We all knew it was him but no one dared to tell.”

“Lambert was a firecracker back then wasn't he!”

Geralt nodded with a smirk. “That's putting it mildly. Wasn't a punishment made that deterred Lambert from doing whatever he wanted. He was born pissed off.”

Ciri sighed wistfully. “I do wish the boys would come and visit me. I'm thrilled that I get to see you and Keira so often now, but all of you were my family. We parted under such terrible circumstances. Do you think they will come to your wedding?”

“Keira wants to try and find them. I hope she does, but witchers aren't easy to find. Could be anywhere.” Neither of them wanted to put voice to the fact that a witcher's life was unpredictable and could end at any time, any place.

Ciri wandered over to the gauntlet. "Oh the memories of this contraption!" she said laughing. They looked up at the contraption, the pendulum still attached.

Geralt looked at her. “What do you say, we give it a go for old time's sake?”

Ciri's eyes lit up and she vaulted up onto the platform and leaped on the comb. With a grin she set the pendulum swinging and drew her sword. Neither of them started off intending for it to get serious, but as soon as their swords clashed the first time, both the witcher and the empress put their best foot forward. It was quite a competition, Ciri hadn't allowed her skills to rust; she had a training hall at the palace where she would spar with her best soldiers, and then recently with Geralt. But the years and experience of a witcher was still hard to beat, and she had to concede defeat. Dismounting from the device with a backflip, she laughed and hugged him.

“We really need to come here and do this more often. It's far more fun without you shouting corrections at me!”

“Your footwork has improved,” replied Geralt.

“I should hope so by now! Well shall we go and look inside?”

They walked slowly up the crumbling stairs to the main entryway, inspecting the crumbling walls and stairs cracking and infiltrated by weeds. A raven was perched on the back of a chair at the dust covered long dining table and squawked at them. It flapped its wings and made a scene.

“You won't be able to live here for long!” Ciri said to it. In response, the large bird flew off and out the still open doorway. “If a bird is the worst resident here than we are in good shape, Geralt.”

Time and adverse weather had caused much wreck and ruin inside the keep, but there didn't seem to be any evidence of visitors aside from the raven. Ciri walked through the common area and the kitchen, remembering all the times she had run through as a child. It seemed smaller to her than it had, but still cavernous and cold.

“Inside'll need work,” said Geralt, his voice echoing around the room.

“A lot of work,” responded Ciri, placing an overturned chair back on it's feet. “I think all new furniture will need to be crafted, all of this seems rickety and unsafe to me.”

“Probably right. Lot of memories in this wood though. If it could talk, the things it would say...”

Geralt walked up the twisting stone staircase to the upper levels of the east side. The beautiful blue and gold design work that had once graced the walls was faded and cracking. Grooves worn into the stairs from centuries of feet was smooth beneath his boots. There were bits of rock everywhere and large cracks spidered down the walls.

“Big project,” said Geralt. “Going to need an artist to repaint all this.”

“Artists are in abundance in the empire,” said Ciri

They reached the section Geralt had chosen as his living quarters and he noticed with dismay that it would take more work than he had anticipated. The witcher sighed inwardly with disappointment. He had hoped it would be reasonably quick but the amount of structural damage would take a precedence over the esthetics. The cracks in the walls and floors all pointed to a larger problem that needed to be handled first. For a moment he considered starting up the school elsewhere, building a new complex. Ciri seemed to read his thoughts.

“I know it looks terrible now Geralt, and seems rather daunting a prospect, but if you'd seen the work crews I've assembled you'd not doubt that this will work out. They will do what needs to be done.”

Her words comforted and bolstered him and they continued on from one section to the next, making notes. When they sat down at the dining hall table they realized they would have to divide up the labors between several work crews. Ciri didn't feel it necessary to only concentrate on one area but multiple ones, beginning with structural repair. However, the work crews she had assembled wouldn't be nearly enough.

“I'll need to put out a call through the empire,” Ciri informed him. “The men I have now won't be enough to work on structure as well as each wing. The good news is we'll be employing many tradesmen and apprentices for this project. It'll help many families. But Geralt, I'm sure Keira will hear about this when I do. You really mustn't delay speaking to her about it any longer. We're all committed now.”

Geralt nodded. He had decided to speak to Keira about it that night after dinner. He had the drawings in Roach's pack in the stable at home. He was sure she would love what he had planned.

“Let's get back,” said Geralt. “Need to talk to Keira tonight.”

“Good,” said Ciri. “It doesn't seem right starting a marriage by withholding things, especially not something this big!”

“I know,” sighed Geralt. “Just haven't figured out how to bring it up.”

“Don't worry. The words will come. You both adore each other and I'm sure Keira will be willing to hear you out.”

Geralt nodded and waited for the portal.

 


	35. Two Become Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt returns home to a very angry Keira and the news of a lifetime.

* * *

Geralt felt a change in the air the moment he returned home.

"Keira?" he called out. Davram appeared and bowed. "Milord, the mistress is in the library. She insisted I send you to her immediately on your return."

"Thank you," said the witcher and headed straight for it. He had missed her, although he had enjoyed his day with Ciri. Time had flown past and he had planned to return far earlier than he had. But sitting with Ciri going over their notes once back in Vizima had taken longer than anticipated and time had gotten away from him. Keira was probably going to be a bit upset with him.

She was facing away from him, looking at something when he came in.

"Keira, sorry I was so..."

She turned and something hurtled towards him. He jumped out of the way and it slammed into a vase, knocking it onto the floor with a loud crash. Water and glass exploded everywhere.

"What the hell is that?" Keira yelled at him.

Geralt, completely confused, turned and looked at the projectile.

It was Caoilte's book.

He felt his heart drop to his feet.

"Where did you get this?" he asked her, picking it up and sitting down.

"Faris had cut himself and I knew you had wound powder in Roach's bags! Ciri had said it was her training book! Both of you were doing this behind my back, and both of you lied to me!"

Geralt stared at the floor. He didn't know what he could say to improve the situation. It really did look pretty bad from where she was standing.

"You _know_ I didn't want to go there! You _know_ that place has dreadful memories for me, yet you and your daughter saw no problem in going behind my back and creating this disgusting thing?"

He looked up at her, his expression impassive. "You actually look through it? All of it?" he asked calmly. An angry sorceress could be a very bad thing. Last time he had angered one he had fallen 50 ft through the air into a cold and nasty lake.

"I saw enough to know what you two are doing!" she cried.

"Did you see the suite of rooms with the nursery? I'm building that for _you_. So you had a comfortable place to come and go from as you please. Was going to finish it and take you there to see it."

"When I told you how I felt about the place did you think painting it and throwing a bit of furniture around would change anything? When were you going to leave me, Geralt? When you realized that I want nothing to do with this stupid project of yours? Were you just going to ride off and leave me here one day?" Tears filled her eyes. "I can't believe _both_ of you lied to me."

Suddenly she clutched her abdomen and leaned over the desk.

Geralt was at her side instantly. "Everything ok, Keira?" he asked gently. “You eat some bad clams?”

She looked up at him. "No everything is _not_ ok, Geralt."

Keira rubbed her belly gingerly, a look of consternation on her face. "I'm pregnant. I had planned to tell you tonight but instead..." She stood up slowly, tears creeping down her face. "Instead I discover that the one I love is a devious dog!"

Geralt was stunned. He reached for her slowly, unsure what she would do. He gathered her into his arms and stroked her back. Carefully he picked her up and took her upstairs to their room. She sobbed quietly into his chest and he sat down with her in the big plush chair before the fire.

"You did it, Keira," he said softly, his lips against her hair. "The one thing no one has ever been able to accomplish, you've done. Think I'm the first witcher to ever be a father!"

"And you want to leave us," said Keira sadly. "I thought you were ready to settle down and have a family. You said so, I believed you."

He rested one hand lightly on her belly. "This little guy, or girl, means the world to me! Not leaving you, Keira! That was never the plan. Will you hear me out? Don't want you to be upset about this."

She said nothing.

 _Better make this good,_ he told himself. _Won't get another chance._

"Kaer Morhen was the only home I ever knew. Was a baby when I was dropped off there. Not even by the Law of Surprise. Mother just didn't want me. Gave me a name and walked away. Vesemir is the only father I had. Eskel and Lambert are the closest thing to brothers I have. Witchers don't have families, but I did. All I had.”

He kissed her head.

“Keira, our life isn't normal. Used to see each other once a year, in winter. Now that's over too. Might never see my brothers again. Life of a witcher. Brutal, deadly, risky. The keep was falling down. Vesemir kept it up. The place has so much of him in it. I can't let it collapse into ruin. Doing this for his memory, for all our memories. Wanted our child to be born there, be the next generation. I love you. I want you to be part of this. But if you hate it so much after you see the completed suite I won't ask you to go there, ever. Wolf school will only be a few months to start. Will suck up portal travel to go back and forth."

Keira was quiet for a long time. Geralt thought she had fallen asleep so he didn't say another word.

"Geralt," she said softly.

"Mhm," he responded.

"I didn't realize it meant so much to you. I was under the impression that the whole thing was just some excuse for you to go and get drunk with your brothers. I love you very much, and I'll do my best to get used to it. I'll not want to live there permanently, but I suppose I can adjust to a few months a year if need be. I need to know though Geralt, why did you lie to me? Why not just tell me all this in the first place?"

Geralt shook his head. "I'm a man. Make stupid decisions sometimes. Ciri disagreed with me too. Said I should talk to you first. Had to have things my way though."

Keira put her hand on her side and stretched her back out. "Geralt could we lie in bed? I'm rather uncomfortable."

He gently moved her from his lap and stood, leading her to it. She touched her shoulder and her clothing vanished. Geralt couldn't help but look at her tiny, slim frame and wonder how she would look in a few months time. The thought made him smile.

She removed his clothing too and together they crawled in under the covers. Geralt immediately took her in his arms. "Don't have a clue what to do," he said. "Know you need to be taken care of. How far along are you?"

Keira patted her belly. "Our little one is 2 months old," she said with a smile.

"What does it feel like? Does it hurt you?"

"I'm not sure I can describe it. These sharp pains I just had are normal but it's still rather intimidating. I knew something was different about a week or two ago. The first test I did was positive and I was so excited Geralt, but it was too early and I had to wait. I just found out for sure this morning while you were out. I was so excited to tell you. Then all that nonsense happened with that book."

"I'm sorry Keira. Promise you from now on no more secrets." He stroked her hip. "I guess making love is out of the question."

"Not if you're gentle with me," she said.

"Aren't I always?"

"Mmhm but just keep it in mind. I'll tell you if it doesn't feel right."

Geralt kissed her head. "Probably should celebrate. Before we tell anyone else. Ciri will be happy for us."

"Yes she will. It would have been fun to see your brothers' reaction. Maybe we can find them, for the wedding!"

"Can try. Pretty excited to be a father. Be a long wait."

Keira tilted her head up. "I'm nervous about it. I don't know the first thing about being pregnant. It seems rather frightening, having a life growing inside you."

Geralt gave her a tender squeeze. "Well Korin or Avelina couldn't have picked a better place to grow, or a better mother for that matter."

"Oh Geralt," Keira sighed. "They have a very special father too. Don't forget that. I only choose the best things!"

Geralt smiled slightly. "Not too sure about that. But if _you_ believe it it's good enough for me."

“So has your project actually begun? Or is it still just a plan?”

Geralt shared with her what Caoilte and Ciri had accomplished in a few short months. He told her what they had done that day and that he didn't think that their suite would be ready by the time the baby came.

“I'd rather give birth here, Geralt, in my home where I'm comfortable and have access to the palace physician if needed. Yulia will be looking after me, but Kaer Morhen is very far off and I won't have Davram or any of the servants to run to the palace if I need help. I hope you understand.”

He did. It made sense to him once she detailed it that way. Plus, the construction wouldn't be finished and it would be far too chaotic for a new mother and newborn baby. Keira was glad that he wasn't upset with her.

“I am looking forward to our little family, and I'm sure your Wolf school will be rather interesting.”

“Ciri asked me to speak to Margarita Laux-Antille about teaching there,” he said.

Her eyes brightened. “She has been so lost since Aretuza was destroyed. She lost all of her students in the culling. At least all the ones she tried to find. Past students were harder to trace but she holds out hope that some managed to avoid being murdered. Teaching again would be wonderful for her, thank you Geralt.”

“Ciri said the same thing. Not sure about the magic part of the school. Don't want Aretuza part two.”

Keira laughed. “Rita is an exceptionally gifted sorceress and a wonderful teacher. I can't think of a single student of hers that disliked her. She won't try and infringe upon your rules, Geralt. Just make sure you have a clear idea of how you want things. If you don't, she'll have no choice but to set things up the way she wishes.”

He sighed. “Don't want to be descended on by the Lodge.”

“There is no Lodge. Phillipa tried to resurrect it but no one was interested. We all have our own lives to attend to now. Times have changed. I don't even speak to any of my Sisters. I haven't in many years. Aside from Yennefer in Skellige and Phillipa once right after I split with Lambert, there has been nothing between us. I know from Cirilla that Rita hasn't spoken with anyone either.”

Geralt nodded. “Alright. When the time comes I'll speak to her. Once we have a plan. Be a while yet.”

Keira smiled. “This has been an eventful day and I'm ready for bed, but we haven't even had dinner yet! I haven't even got time for a nap.”

“I can let Davram know we'll be eating later,” suggested Geralt.

“Perhaps so. If you wouldn't mind? I'll just have a nap then.” She settled into her pillows and drew the covers up. Geralt stretched and went to find the steward.

He stopped at the door and turned around.

Looking at Keira he realized he had gone from a lonely drifter to a man with a wife and child on the way. His entire destiny had suddenly changed.

Fate sure had a strange way of weaving a life story.

 


	36. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt, Keira and Korin have a visit from Lambert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation for Cinniúint: SIN-yoo-inch
> 
> Although this story was written second, it is actually the first part of the Wolf Brothers series. You can follow the continuation of witcher Lambert's story as alluded to in this epilogue here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7648513/chapters/17412868

* * *

Geralt cut the rose from the bush and broke off a few of the thorns. He walked over to Keira who was nursing Korin. He handed her the rose over her shoulder.

She took it and turned to him with a smile. “How lovely, what is this for?” she asked, smelling the fragrant bloom.

“Reminds me of you,” he said.

“A rose? Why would that be?”

“Beautiful, fragile, but can be thorny.”

She laughed. “Oh stop it, I'm not thorny with you! Well unless you misbehave that is.”

Geralt crouched down beside her and reached up to stroke her face. “Still glad you married me?” he asked. “Even if I'm a rogue witcher who can't behave in polite society?”

“I've never regretted you a single day since we met, Geralt.”

“Glad to hear it.”

He sat down beside her and looked lovingly at his baby son.  Korin had been born 4 months ago after a quiet and easy pregnancy.  Keira had loved every moment of it, and when they had welcomed their son into the world Geralt had known a feeling of completeness he never knew existed.

“Where's Lambert?” Keira asked.

“Torturing Millie in the kitchen,” answered Geralt.

“Correction!” came a boisterous voice from behind them. “The awesome that is Lambert is right here. Had to eat. Food in that kitchen is fucking great.”

Lambert looked down at Korin and held his arms out. “Give me the little guy for a bit.”

“Sit down then,” ordered Keira.

Lambert took the baby gently and held him. “Hey little buddy,” he said softly, his usual abrasiveness gone. “How's my main man?”

Geralt watched his brother with amusement. “Looks like you need one of those Lambert.”

“Yeah at the fucking rate I'm going that will be never.”

“Need to find a good woman.”

Lambert smirked. “Ya think? Speaking of women, met a pretty great one out by Cinniúint a few weeks ago. Dark hair, big dark eyes. A real looker.”

“Mmhm,” said Geralt. “Courtesan or regular prostitute?”

“Ha-ha,” scowled Lambert. “She's an egghead. Does some fancy translation work for coin. Followed her around for a bit.”

“She let you do that?”

Lambert grinned. “Not exactly. Got a bit pissed at me and told me to fuck off.”

Keira rolled her eyes. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“She didn't mean it though,” said Lambert.

“How on earth could you think that? If she told you to get lost I'm sure she meant it.”

Lambert shook his head. “Going to give her some time to cool off then I'll go find her again. It's in her eyes. She likes me.”

Geralt gave his brother a look. “This won't go well.”

“It's all good. Get this. Her name is Ykaterina. Gorgeous, just like her.”

“Nilfgaardian?” asked Geralt.

“Yeah, think so. She's a mage.”

Both Geralt and Keira stared at him with raised eyebrows. “What happened to staying away from dangerous women? Isn't that your number one unbreakable rule Lambert?” asked Keira.

“Yeah it was. Til I met her. Name of the town though, means _fate, destiny._ ”

Keira blinked. “Who are you and what have you done with Lambert?” She raised her hand and formed a ball of light. “I better check if you are a doppler!”

Lambert wrinkled his nose up. “Fuck no. Don't put that magic shit on me. Can't stand it.”

“There he is,” said Geralt.

Lambert rocked Korin for a few minutes until the little boy fell asleep. “I gotta head out brother, “ he said softly. “Be a bit before I'm up this way again I think. You ever hear from Eskel?”

Geralt shook his head. They had tried to find both Lambert and Eskel for the wedding but Lambert had been too far away and there was no trace of Eskel. Keira and Rita had both done the scrying and they couldn't get anything. It had disappointed them both but as Geralt had told her, a witcher was a witcher. There was no finding them sometimes.

“You going to check out the Wolf school?” asked Geralt. “Doing really good. Got some of it fixed up. It's open a few months a year but still a lot of structural damage before anyone can move in.”

Lambert gave Korin back to Keira and stood up. “Nah,” he said. “Not my thing. Hated the place and I don't need to revisit it anytime soon. Anyway, see ya brother.” He nodded to Keira and sauntered off to find his horse.

* * *

“Got a letter from Lambert,” said Geralt. “Says he's teaching some monster class over at Oxenfurt University.”

Korin toddled over to his father and sat in his lap, babbling happily in his baby speech.

“What?” asked Keira incredulously.

“Mmhm. Apparently he's teaching. Sent him a reply asking who he ploughed to get into that. Asked him to come see us. Been awhile.”

“Now there's a story I'd love to hear. I wonder if he ever found that girl he told us about?”

Geralt shrugged. “Been almost 2 years. Who knows with Lambert. I'm guessing probably not. He's not easy to be around.”

Keira smiled. “Well not everyone can be as wonderful as you.”

The witcher leaned over and kissed his wife. “I love you. Both of you.”

“We love you too, Geralt.”

 


End file.
